


The Real Thing

by writers_blocc



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Friends With Benefits, Friendship, May contain spoilers, Pre-Relationship, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2018-06-06 14:13:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 43,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6757408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writers_blocc/pseuds/writers_blocc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She’s half way down the stone path when he remembers, “hey Iris?” </p><p>She pivots, walking backwards on her heel. “Rainy days or clear skies?” From the distance he can just make out her brow crease in confusion, the dim lights highlight her brown skin from the shadows. </p><p>“What?”</p><p>Barry shrugs, lifting the strap of his book bag to his shoulder. “You said I could ask you anything. So, do you prefer rainy days or clear blue skies?”</p><p>He waits a beat and her confusion morphs into a look of ponder.</p><p>“I’ve always wanted to be kissed in the rain.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I.

The room is dark, save for the glimpse of light coming from under the seal of his door. The sound of the party going at full speed downstairs, mask the tone of their harsh breathing. Barry, in particular, works to get himself to settle down when she moves lightly on top of him, and he freezes afraid that he’ll scare her off. Barry is perfectly content with letting her stay as he comes to enjoy the feel of her still slightly shaking in her afterglow. But he won't push his luck. Not long before he eases into the comfort of his bed does she move, sliding her thigh from around his waist, over his pelvis until he can feel her nestle in closely. He counts quietly to himself, waiting in the silence of the room for her to say something. Anything really. When she doesn’t, Barry wonders if he should.

He thinks about thanking her. But thank you sounds a bit too harsh. It would make the situation awkward and expose his vulnerabilities.

Another beat passes where all he can hear is her even breathing and the noise of the party happening a floor below. He dares to look at her from the corner of his eye and decides to go with it. “You bit me.” It’s not a question, but she can clearly hear the confusion in his statement and smiles despite herself.

“Sorry.”

Barry attempts to lift his shoulder in a careless shrug but her head is tucked there, and as she starts to trace invisible shapes around his abdominal, each shape going lower than its predecessor, any thought of moving quickly disperses.

“Sometimes, I get carried away. I didn’t mean to, heat of the moment thing.”

“It’s no big deal.” He glances down to where she is tucked just under his chin and breathes in the smell of her shampoo mixed with the smell of her sweat, his sweat and the aftermath of their sex. It’s intoxicating. “I kinda liked it.” Barry can feel her laughter start in her chest before he can hear it in the shadows of his room, he can almost see her eyes light with mischief in search of his own.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She makes a content sound in the back of her throat and centers herself back to his chest. Her fingers slide from the V of his hip, up and around to his pectoral muscle, taking the nail of her index finger to circle his areola before moving on to scrape it against his nipple. It’s oddly intimate, all things considered.

“I’ll be out of your hair soon. I just need to get my bearings together.”

“Take all the time you need. There’s no rush.” Only when he says it does Barry realize that it’s true. He doesn’t know her from the next girl but she seems familiar all the same. Or maybe it was mind playing tricks on him, suckering him in since things like this never happened to him. Like ever. Beautiful girls who were out of his league did not talk to him, much less flirt with him before whisking him away to more private, quieter areas. It just did not happen.

At least not to him.

“Thanks,” she starts then lifts her head, the warmth of her body following her as limb by limb she started to move away. “Um, I’m Iris by the way.”

“Oh, uh, Allen - I mean Barry. Allen.” He forces himself to pause, take a deep breath and try again. “Barry Allen.” He closes his eyes, briefly, wincing at his own eagerness. He was certain she could see the red flush start at his ears and spread its way down to the base of his shoulders. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too Barry.”

“So…?”

Another beat, and she’s laughing, albeit quietly, but Barry can feel the vibration of her body where her breasts hang just low enough to meet the planes of his chest. “So.” And she sounds much more confident than he can ever remember feeling.

“So… are you, like a freshman or..?”

“No, returning junior, you?”

“Same.”

“Hmm,” she makes that content sound again, which Barry is quickly becoming fond of, and perches her head on her fist. “It’s funny that this is our first time running into each other. Are you a transfer?”

“No, um, actually up until this year, I was commuting from home. But my friends Cisco and Caitlin thought it would be cool to get a place together and so, here I am.”

“That’s cool, having your own place for the first time I mean.”

“Yeah. What about you, are you staying on campus?”

Even though he can’t clearly see her, he can feel her nodding as the soft strands of hair tickle over his bare skin. “Well, it’s my sorority's house. Between my part time job and writing for the schools’ newspaper I can’t exactly afford to cover rent on my own.”

“Yeah-,” he starts but pauses mid-thought, “wait are you Iris West. That Iris West?”

“I don't know,” she teases, “how many Iris West do you know?”

Barry lifts himself up, his forearms catch the brunt of his weight so he can meet her at eye level. “No, no, what I meant to say was that you're Iris West, the one that writes for Central U News. I’m a fan, I read your stuff all the time.”

“Really,” she sounds disbelieving but she can just make out his frantic nodding when the light from his window catches him just as a car passes by below. “And here I thought that people could care less.”

“No,” he shakes his head, hair flopping about. “There are definitely people on campus that care. Every time I’m in Bulgar Hall I pick one up on my way to class.”

“You should pay attention in class ya’know.”

He shrugs this time, “History has never been my strong suit.”

“Maybe if you paid attention more.”

“Touché,” he smiles and wishes that he could see hers. “But you do realize if I start paying attention in class there will be less time to read about the action that's going on here at Central University. Without Central News how would I have known that Professor Stein was making his remarkable return to campus and the world of Physics?”

“That is pretty important.”

“Oh,” he reaches for his chest in mock dramatics initiating laughter between the two, “it's of the most importance of the important.” The ways she curls into his side, connecting their bodies skin to skin ceases his laughter. She is so warm and soft. Iris must notice the shift in his demeanor because she lifts up, mirroring him in the way that they both seem to peer at each other from under their long eyelashes.

“Barry?”

“Yeah,” he says, deeper and huskier than he’s ever heard his voice go, and holds his breath as he feels her move in closer as her nose pokes at his philtrum before working its way up in an Eskimo kiss.

“Do you have another condom?”

Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes. “Y-yeah,” he nods to confirm said statement as well. He points a thumb over his shoulder where his nightstand sits and says, “I should have another in there somewhere.” It takes him a moment to tear himself away but when he does he opens the first drawer and blindly moves his hand around in search of the foil packet.

He wants to shout something to the effects of Eureka when he comes in contact with the square packet but reminds himself to play it cool and turns back to Iris with a goofy grin instead, “found one.”

Iris doesn't wait for him to move, taking the lead for herself by throwing her thighs over him to bring them back together like they were never apart, with her skin on his, her chest squished against the harder panel of his own and the heat of her pelvis resting just above him.

Barry doesn't know what he’s done in this life or the past or which deity he owes for this blessing but he is eternally grateful, especially as Iris locks her arms around his neck and eases him forward until their lips touch. It unnerves him, and he’s melting into her embrace. Her lips are soft like the rest of her and as her tongue goes in search of his, Barry is reminded that she taste just as good. If not better.

He moans bucking into her, sighing in content when she copies him, thrusting her hips forward to meet his in a heady bash that has her folds suctioning the underside of his member. His hands move on their own accord, right down to the handfuls of her backside, taking a cheek in each hand, he squeezes the flesh and rocks her closer, sliding her slick folds along his shaft. Barry is not sure who groans first as they seem to sound one in the same but as she teeters up and the hard bundle of nerves bumps against the sensitive underside of his crown, he’s one hundred percent sure that it’s his strangled sound that choruses across the room.

“Condom,” he has the wherewithal to say through his sex-addled mind. She’s too close to home, and she feels so good. He needs to be inside of her. Right now.

“Yeah,” she grinds down harder, her wet folds separate when they meet his heated shaft. “S-safe sex,” she whimpers, “is important, oh my God.” She rocks into him once, twice and then finds a spot on his shoulder and sucks down on it, releasing a watery moan.

“So important.”

She is overwhelming. Every part of her, her touch, her smell, her sound. Jesus. Barry has to have her. He works his hands up, positioning them around her waist and with a heave he lifts her up.

A surprised yelp leaves Iris but otherwise, she keeps her face buried in the crook of his neck, biting, licking and kissing her way along his pulse. She wraps her legs around his body, locking her ankles firmly at his backside when Barry parts his thighs and rest back on his haunches, settling her right into his lap.  
Barry brings the foil packet to his lips and cuts it with his teeth, just enough to slither it out of the packet with the same hand. A trick his friend, Oliver taught him their freshman year of high school and tries to put it on but Iris, for her part is doing damn well in distracting him. Barry is sure she doesn't mean to, but as she mewls in his ear, twirling her hips to rub against him - it ceases what little focus he has. “Iris,” her name falls on deaf ears and it takes everything inside of Barry to hold her still, sit back for the moment and strap the condom on securely.

“Ready,” she nibbles at his ear before openly kissing his high cheekbone and finally finding his lips. “Ymm,” yes, is what he means to say but she has him in her grasp, gripping the head and sliding down to the base. She lifts up, unlocking her ankles for just a second to plant her feet down on the mattress and guides him to her center and pushes down. “Oh my…” she can't help that she’s verbal, her boyfriend of past sometimes thought it was too much, but after their first go, Barry was adamant about Iris expressing herself in an honest way. So she does, freely, even more so as she starts to slide down, down, down his thick pole, only stopping when her folds nuzzle against the coarse hairs that center around his base and mesh with the silky curls of her own. “Oh, God yes.” Barry definitely has no arguments, and grunts in response.

They are still only for the moment when she moves first; sliding her hips back slowly, agonizingly, almost as if she has to get use to his size all over again. And she does. He's so thick and long, and completely not what she was expecting but dammit - Iris learned a long time ago not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

They don't speak. Instead, they let their bodies make the decisions for them, following what feels right. Barry holds her close, gripping the soft flesh of her ass as she switches from rocking to bouncing in his lap, the sound of their flesh ricochet off the walls accompany the wet sounds of him sliding into her over and over again.

His eyes focus on her breast that bounce with each down stroke she administrates and he captures one, swirling his tongue around the hard bud before biting down softly on it. “Yes, yes…” Iris shudders around him, sliding back up his length in one lewd sloppy stroke. Barry’s hands work their way up, one falls to where they are joined while the other one takes hold of her lone nipple. He traps it between his index finger and thumb, pinching it and it’s like a direct tug to Iris clit.

“Barry, oh fuhh.” All iris can do is hold on, her body moving at its own violation now, her hips are erratic and uncontrolled. Barry has to abandon her nipple to hold her when she gives one sturdy bounce down, rocking her hips around and around when she touches base.

Barry buries his face in her neck, his hips jerking to meet her thrust for thrust. “Just like that,” she cries but Barry wants more. He needs more.

She cups the back of his head when he thrust harder in short strokes that make her eyes roll to the back of her head. “Ohhh,” she can't breathe. Everything is happening so fast. It’s almost too much. But she’s coming to learn there’s always more where Barry is concerned. He shows her when he slips one arm under her leg, opening her up, plunging himself in hard long strokes.

“Hunn”

She's trying to hold on but everything just feels too good, every sense in her body has been heightened and all she can conceivably do is flutter over him and brace herself for what she knows is about to come.

Barry’s looks down, in the twilight of his room, and he can just make out the contrast between their two tones. His pale skin sliding into her darker folds, the dusky pink inside follow each thrust he delivers and he opens her wider, wanting to see more, feel more. He pulls out slowly, teasing himself more than her, and when her face calms, he dives back in and she screams. It’s a sound he wants to hear for the rest of his days. So he does it again. And again.

“Hunn, oh fuck Barry.”

The noise of their bodies slapping against each other grow louder and Barry lifts his head to capture her lips in another hungry kiss, but she only stays for a moment, retracting herself with a loud slurp that rivals the sound of him pushing into her, as he zeros in on the bundle of nerves at her center. When Iris arches her back, Barry knows she is about to cum. He holds her, sitting up and rubs his fingers in faster smaller circles, needing to see her explode; needing to feel her erupt around him. And then to his amazement, Iris stills in his arm, like she’s been flash frozen on the outside, but her insides snap like a rubber band and Barry can feel her start to convulse from the bottom up.

“So good. So good. So good…”

Barry does his best to keep himself going but he can feel that all too familiar tug in his stomach, he can feel his heavy sack start to draw up signaling the end.

“Gonna cum,” he sobs as Iris' nails dig painfully into his back. He buries his face in between her breast, trying to hold on for as long as he possibly can, he licks away the sweat forming there as his hips start to move like a jackhammer into her, almost slicing her in half and Iris screams again. A fresh orgasm wrestles through her body, steamrolling onto the tail end of the first one. She clenches down hard on him when Barry feels the first tug work its way up his shaft.

“Shit,” he moans right into her. He drops her leg and pushes her down, his hips bucking in between her soft thighs to follow her assent. “Shit, shit, shit. Shi-oh…” her body opens up, thighs falling apart and Barry surges forward one final time and, “oh my God Iris,” he can feel spurt after spurt empty itself into the condom.

His hips jerks one more time and Barry has to will himself to stay upright to keep from squishing her, his head rolls to the side as his body comes back down from its’ high. When his breathing is steady enough, he opens his eyes to find Iris with one arm thrown over her eyes and the other resting on her stomach, her chest rising and falling in time with breathing. He kisses her stomach, right above her bellybutton before sitting up and slowly sliding his spent member out of her. Barry ties the condom away before falling, face first in the bed beside her utterly spent.

“Damn,” she says into the silence of the room after some time.

“Yeah.” He murmurs, fighting to keep his eyes open. All of his energy is zapped at this point but he wants to stay awake. He wants to keep talking to her. He doesn't want this to be the end.

Barry hopes that when he wakes up in the morning that she will still be by his side but that’s just wishful thinking, it’s dangerously close to giving himself too much credit and if he doesn't play his cards right, he could wake up to discover that this was all just a dream. That she was just a figment of his imagination. “Iris.” Her name is a hushed whisper on his lips. It is the last thing he says before his eyelids fall shut.

Iris watches him slowly descend into sleep and she has to fight from cuddling into his side. Barry Allen is absolutely adorable and had the circumstance been different… She doesn’t allow herself to stay there too long. This whole ordeal went further than she intended and Linda was probably just short of tearing this place apart in search of her. Quietly, to keep from disturbing him because who’s to say if he’s a light sleeper or not, Iris untangles herself from the sheets to go in search of her clothes. She finds her jeans at the foot of his bed along with her shoes. Her shirt and bra have been tossed by the door but,

“Where the hell are my underwear?” she poses the question silently to the dead of the room, trying to get her eyes to operate in the dark hues. She retraces her steps but after a few minutes go by, she gives up. She shuffles around for a bit, getting her toe stuck in her ripped jeans more than once when she finally manages to get herself dressed and quietly cracks the door open to step out.

“There you are,” Iris’ heel hasn't even hit the ground floor when she spots her best friend parting the crowd like the Red Sea and racing over to her. “I was just about to have your dad call in the swat team. Where the hell have you been?”

“Around,” It’s a pretty big party, in a pretty big house, so Iris doesn’t feel bad because she could have easily gotten lost in the swarm of college students.

“Well, you could’ve answered your phone or sent me a text.” Linda is such a worry wart sometimes, but sometimes she has every reason to be, “some guy could have drugged you or,” her face twist in disgust, “I don’t know worse.”

“I’m fine Linda.”

Iris just needs some air. She turns left into the kitchen and walks out to the patio, down to the drive where Linda finally catches up to her; with her come questions however and Iris can’t answer them. She doesn’t want to answer - she’s not ready.

“Can we just go home?”

Linda skirts her stance from one leg to the other, arms folded firmly over her chest and Iris knows that this isn't the end of their conversation but by some astronomical fate, Linda drops her arms, letting one loop through Iris’. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go home.”

It’s not until they are in Iris’ Honda, that Linda asks, “you are okay, though, right?” She’s alluding and Iris knows. Linda must have seen him too. She turns the key over and the car roars to life, and the song playing on her Bluetooth picks up where it left off.

“I’m fine.”  
...  
“Dude. Duuude.”Barry hums into the pillow, gradually waking from his slumber against his will so he hugs the linen tighter forcing himself to stay asleep. But it smells good, different from what it usually does. It smells like - Barry's eyes snap open, immediately deflecting from the sunlight streaming in from his window.

“Oh, good you're up.”

Barry peers from under his lashes to find Cisco standing at the side of his bed, and if Cisco is here... Barry lifts his chest, looking beside him and around his bedroom and there is no sign of her. “Was I dreaming?”

“What?”

“What?” Barry swallows thickly, his tongue heavy with sleep. “Nothing,” He shakes his head, turning back to the boy standing at his bedside. “What - what’s up?”

“Stellar party last night, right?” Cisco goes in for a fist bump which Barry tiredly taps back. “We should totally have another one, of course, Caitlin is less than thrilled about the cleanup but last night,” he shakes his head, and his raven hair falls from its' loose ponytail. “You shoulda seen her, she was like some wild party animal. It was insane,” he pauses briefly to lick the yogurt off of his spoon. “Where’d you get off to by the way?”

“Um,” Barry squeezes the pillow closer to his chest. “I think I drank a little too fast too soon, so I came up here to get my head back. I guess I feel asleep.”

“That sucks man, you missed a killer party.” Cisco scrapes the bottom of his cup with his spoon before continuing, “any way the future Dr. Snow sent me up here to tell you, you've got ten minutes to get your butt downstairs to help with cleanup or she’s going to come up here, personally, and castrate you herself. Her words not mine.”

“She can't do that can she?”

“Maybe not yet, cleanly anyway, but I wouldn't put it past her for much longer.”

“Dually noted.” Barry watches Cisco close his door on the way out before he buries himself back into the covers. Her scent is still fresh as if she was still laying there beside him. It gives him enough leverage to believe that she’d actually been there. That she wasn't just some illusion.

Hours later when the house is clean and up to standards, Barry returns to his room, spotting the mess that is his bed. He opts to clean his sheets, folding first the fitted sheet into the laundry basket, the pillow cases go next when he reaches for the flat sheet bunched at the end of his bed and something red falls to his feet.

A silent curse drums throughout his bedroom as he holds the garment up at eye level. It’s a pair of red lacy underwear. Not the kind he’s used to seeing on the internet, the ones that looked like three strings tied together but the other kind… boy shorts, he thinks they are called. Barry can vividly, remember running his hand over the lace material last night before slipping his hand down to discover her soft flesh spilling out. He hesitates, waiting to hear if either Caitlin or Cisco are approaching. They’ve kind of formed this open door policy since moving in together but that would make it no less embarrassing if they were to barge in on him holding panties that obviously don't belong to him, especially if they could see him holding them under his nose. He inhales the spicy, sweet scent of her and a clipped moan escapes his throat.

He has every intention of returning them. Honestly, he does but for now, they go in his sock drawer for safe keeping, just until he runs into her again.

Yup.  
…

It’s a month later into the school year when Iris sees him again. She’s rushing to her next class, when right across the path from her, she spots a tall stick of a man, with brown hair and high cheekbones. It’s what she first noticed about him the night of the party, how his cheeks lead to brilliant green eyes that crinkled around the edges when he smiled. It’s what drew her to him.

He doesn't notice her as his long legs carry him from the building in a hurry. People seem to get out of the way as he breezes by and Iris has to wonder if it’s his opposing presence brought on by his height or that his limbs seem to go wayward on their own accord. He kind of looks like a baby deer learning how to walk for the first time.

Either way, Iris finds herself thinking it's cute. He’s cute.  
…

A week later they cross paths in the student union. Barry is waiting in line with Cisco at the Auntie Annie’s by the door, and Iris is with Linda. She spots him at exactly the same moment he looks up to see her leaving the bookstore in mid conversation.

Barry smiles first, not sure if he should do more and to his relief, she smiles back. And her smile… it sucks the air straight from his lungs. She’s gorgeous, just as he remembers.

Their smile is meant to be brief, secret and to go unnoticed but as she and Linda near the doors of the union, her friend asks, “who was that?” Iris doesn’t want to lie, but she does anyway.

“No one.”

Barry has only a minute before Cisco is in his ear. “Are you leading a secret double lifestyle that I don't know about?”

Honestly. “No,” Barry says stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. He wishes, but “no,” he says again more to himself.  
…  
It’s late Friday evening and Barry is in the library, as per his usual, nose deep in a book. He has his first test Monday afternoon which he’s sure he can pass with flying colors, but you can never be too sure. He runs his thumb down the spine of the paperback, dashing through the first pages of Harrison Wells’ view on quantum physics when his phone buzzes with a text.

He knows he should ignore it, but then again, he dog-ears the page and picks up the phone. He could use a break.

  
**Cisco 9:45**  
**+Caitlin, Barry**  
**Losers where r thou(s)?**

Caitlin is first to reply.

 **Caitlin 9:45**  
**+Cisco, Barry**  
**Working**

Barry remembers seeing on her calendar that she picked up a shift at the medical center so she could take Sunday off to visit her dad for his birthday.  
Barry taps the screen, bringing up his keypad to reply.

 **Barry 9:46**  
**+Cisco, Caitlin**  
**Studying**

The little text bubbles go off on the bottom of his screen when a text comes in from Cisco.

 **Cisco 9:47**  
**+Caitlin, Barry**  
**How is it that we/r in college n bth of my compadres r not w/ me @ this party?**

 **Caitlin 9:47**  
**+Cisco, Barry**  
**Because we’re not freshman.**

 **Caitlin 9:48**  
**+Cisco, Barry**  
**We have life to worry about.**

Barry snickers, typing out a quick reply.

 **Barry 9:48**  
**+Cisco, Caitlin**  
**Lol**

He can practically feel Cisco’s eye roll travel across the airwaves.

 **Cisco 9:50**  
**+Caitlin, Barry**  
**I just thnk we’ve all been wrking so hard. We shld def take a brk. Party starts now - until** He inserts a rock on emoji followed by the address where the party is being held.

But.

 **Barry 9:51**  
**+Cisco, Caitlin**  
**Sorry man, can’t, big test monday.**

No soon after Caitlin sends her response declining as well.

 **Caitlin 9:51**  
**+Cisco, Barry**  
**The only thing I want after work is a hot shower and my bed.**

 **Cisco 9:52**  
**+Caitlin, Barry**  
**I need new friends.**

Switching his iPhone for the deserted book, Barry flips back to the page, revisiting the world of physics and the radiant mind of Wells. He’s nearing the end of the chapter when he feels a light tap on his shoulder. He looks up at the clock on the far wall to see it's a quarter past ten and turns over his shoulder to see her standing there, bright smile glowing.

He’s stupefied.

He’s perplexed.

She’s so pretty. How is she even real?

“You must live here.” Iris pulls out the chair, taking the empty seat beside him.

Timid laughter ripples through the white noise of the library, and Barry scratches irritably at his ear. If only she knew the real amount of time he actually spent here, let’s just say if his tuition didn’t already cover it then they probably would charge him for rent. But she doesn't need to know that.

“So,” she motions towards the book at hand, “What’re you reading?”

“Oh um,” he looks down at the used book with its’ worn back, cracked spine, color coded highlighted key paragraphs and notes scribbled into the margins - all of his doing, and grins. “Just stuff.”

“About?”

He lifts a brow, pausing, before finally deciding to say. “You’re inquisitive.”

“And you're good at diverging,” Iris throws back. Tit for tat it would seem but, Barry can’t find it in himself to raise protest because she’s still smiling at him.

He blows a small raspberry, and against her will, her attention zeroes in on those perfect lips. She recalls the night of the party all those weeks ago, and how he tasted like peppermint with a hint of blueberry vodka. Delicious. “Well, if you must know,” he holds the book out for her to see, showing her the cover with a pliant man placed dead center. “It’s basically Harrison Wells proposition on space and time, and how with the right formula, persistence really,” Iris catches the way his eyes light up as he tries to find the right words and all she can think about is how he looks perfect just that way. “And… and, supposedly, theoretically speaking, of course, he could create a world with clean solar energy. Can you picture how amazing that would be? I mean,” he stops himself short, visibly sinking back into himself. “I’m sorry. I’m rambling. But, um, yeah,” he closes the book, placing it on the table before him. “That’s really about - about it.”

She’s not sure what exactly does it. It could be the awe written on his face or the way he catches himself, embarrassed that he'd revealed his true self, but Iris kisses him regardless because they both do her in and like two magnets they attract.

“Hmmp,” he makes a strangled sound deep in the back of his throat, stiffening against her before going lax, softening into her form and his eyes slip shut.

Her arms travel up and intertwine around his neck as she presses into him more firmly. He tastes like sweet mint this time.

They shouldn't be doing this.

Not here.

Not now.

Not ever again.

But, as Barry tilts his head just slightly to the right, Iris can’t find it in herself to pull away. “Barry,” she breathes against his lips, her hand sliding down to his lower lip and sucking. “Bathroom?”

“Bathroom?” Iris nods, smiling into the kiss before standing up. She takes his hand and pulls him from the seat. She only drops it in order to push back the stall doors in the ladies room. When it's all clear she shoves him back into one. She reaches for his belt buckle first.

“Whoa,” he grabs her hand, holding them still.

She looks up, staggered a little bit. “Did you not…?”

Barry opens his mouth, gaping like a fish out of water and he scratches at his ear again. Iris wonders if it’s a tick of his. “No.” He shakes his head. “No, I mean yes. Yes I do, it's just…” he clears his throat again, as she starts to trace the bed of his zipper, slowly; unconsciously his hips thrust forward. “It’s just -I… I don't know anything about you and - and,” his hips jerk again as her finger shifts to trace the growing bulge forming under his jeans. “Holy…,” he gulps. “It’s just - it’s just I’ve n-never had a one night stand before - before…” the rest mumbles off into a sputtered groan.

“You’re cute.”

“T-Thanks.” His voice is an octave higher but so the hell what.

Her smile shifts just a bit wider and she pops the button and slides the zipper down. She whispers right against his throat, sleek and sensual like pure silk.  
“You’re adorable Barry.”

Iris kisses him there, soft, right over his adam’s apple.

Nibbles at him.

One arm roams around his waist, nails trailing over his spine while the other sets a trail down the line of thin hair that curls into his boxers. She dips a single finger and Barry can’t see straight.

“So sweet.” She licks at the hollow of his throat, right where the collar of where his shirt starts and she swears he shivers. She follows it with a kiss, dropping her hand further until it brushes with his base.

“Go on, ask me anything.” Down, down, down until the pad of her index finger outlines the crown of his head, shaped like the tail end of a plum just as she remembered.

Barry can barely stand up straight, so any connection from his brain to his mouth has been lost. He moans, low and long when she holds him in her palm. “I… I,”

“You what?”

“I...I,” he’s rendered speechless when she sucks at his neck, starting a path at his collar and up to the soft spot right behind his ears. All the blood in his system has rushed to the wrong head at this point, and his hips flex in response, pleading for her touch. For her to hold him tighter. “I…”

Iris moves up to his jaw at the same time her grip pulls up in one dense pull. She sucks his tongue into her mouth, silencing his unbridled moans and starts to pump him vigorously now, tightening her grip in various spots along his shaft.

“Oh my god.” Barry sobs, hips moving in sync with her fist. His head falls back, pumping against the tiled wall he’s standing against but he doesn't register pain. Just the pleasure her warm hand is offering. He feels her lips turn up at the point of his sternum and he grunts in response. She is working him over better than he’s ever managed himself, and when she twist her wrist in a swift stroke up, his knees buckle.

“Oh. Oh…” his moans grow louder but he doesn't care. Let whoever hear because holy shit he’s about to cum. It shouldn’t be this easy but as she copies the same tactic twice more, twisting and fastening over the sensitive underside of his head. “Iris.” His hips pump into her like a madman when she forms a tight circle and runs her thumb over his slit that’s leaking precum. “Iris, oh shi-,” a list of expletives leave his throat as he feels the first surge release into her hand.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

And Barry’s left leg trembles as the fifth and final pull passes. His head reels to the side and the sweat at his temple seeks out the cool aluminum at his back. He sucks in oxygen in one big gulp through his nose as a strangled noise follows afterward that elicits a small giggle from Iris.

He comes down from his high after some time and manages to straighten himself out and follow her out of the stall. He’s fixing his collar when he looks up to finds her reflection in the mirror. She greets him with a small smile. And he can't help it, “you’re amazing.”

She pumps soap into her palm and runs her hands under the faucet to rinse his mess away. She finds him in the mirror again. “So are you Barry.”  
He doesn't know about that.

“C’mon,” she grabs his hands after drying them off under the dryer. They make sure the coast is clear before they duck out of the bathroom and race back to his table.

'The library will be closing in fifteen minutes.’

“I guess that’s our cue to leave, huh?”

“S’pose so.” Barry can’t make heads or tails of her. Not her beauty. Certainly not this carefree persona she exudes. She literally just gave him a hand job in a public restroom, and she literally looks like nothing just happened.

“So, I’ll see you around some other time,” she says when they make it outside of the Queen Memorial Library to find a dark campus illuminated by the street lights posted periodically on the grounds.

“Yes, definitely.”

“Well,” she tilts her head in the opposite direction of where he’s headed. ”I’m this way.”

“And I’m,” he points up the path, “that way but I - would you like me to walk you home? I can, if you - ya'know, want.”

Her smile, still bright and heart-stopping, beams at him. She reaches up, brushing his cheek faintly with the back of her hand and it's enough for him to rest against before she pulls away. “You’re really sweet Barry, but I have a car.” Her smile is now a smirk. “How about I give you a lift home instead.”

Barry doesn't want to put her out. He only has to walk up the path and cross the street and he’d be home. Plus, if Cisco or Caitlin saw him getting out of a strange car, they’d have a million questions he didn't have answers to.

“That’s okay, I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

He nods, his smile starting to reflect hers in a similar wonder like fashion. “Yeah, you should go though, it’s already pretty late. I don't want to keep you.”

“Protective too.”

“Concerned.”

Her cheeks puff out when she laughs. Barry pencils that into the growing memories he has of her.

“Have a good night Barry.”

“G ’night Iris.” She’s half way down the stone path when he remembers, “hey Iris?”

She pivots, walking backward on her heel. “Rainy days or clear skies?” From the distance he can just make out her brow crease in confusion, the dim lights highlight her brown skin from the shadows.

“What?”

Barry shrugs, lifting the strap of his book bag to his shoulder. “You said I could ask you anything. So, do you prefer rainy days or clear blue skies?”

He waits for a beat, watching as her confusion morphs into one ponder.

“I’ve always wanted to be kissed in the rain.” And she’s gone, turning the corner of the building and disappearing from his sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have any idea on how this came to be. I sat down for two hours and well... so, I apologize if there is no real flow to this story, or if it seems scattered. And if you think your mind is playing tricks on you, don't worry it's not - it really is heavily unedited. Does anyone want to fix that? (also, sorry about the random changes of POV, I tried to get most of it as Barry's).


	2. II.

“Hi,” Barry greets her while they wait in line at the campus coffee shop, Jitters. It’s by coincidence that he runs into her here. You see, he’s running late to class but when he spots her through the bay windows of the coffee shop, his feet gain a mind of their own and carry him inside; accidentally he cuts off an elderly man in the process. He mumbles an apology when the older man peers at him.

“Are you following me?”

Barry snorts before he has the will to catch it, smiling. When she doesn't return it, he cradles the back of his neck before it trickles over to his ear, pulling at it. “I thought… I thought,” he glances nervously around the coffee shop before turning back to her. “I’m sorry. I thought, after the library,” he takes a step back almost bumping into the man again. “Sorry. Sorry. Um-,”

“It’s okay Barry,” she pulls him closer to keep him from assaulting the man further. “I was joking.”

They can hear the elderly man grumbling, issuing silent curses to the back of Barry’s head.

“Oh, I - I,” he looks behind him to apologize to the man once again for good measure before turning back to Iris. “I just thought that maybe, you um, didn’t want…”

She tugs the sleeve of his sports jacket effectively shutting him up. “It’s okay Barry.”

“Okay,” he repeats to himself, more than once in the attempt to get himself to calm down.

Iris finds his fumbling charming.

She doesn't have much time to talk. Iris has to get to a meeting in the next few minutes or she runs the risk of getting chewed out by her editor, but promises to find Barry later.

She gets to the newsroom just in time to hear the tune of Mason’s cheeky, “nice of you to join us Miss West.” Iris, wordlessly points to the clock as it strikes twelve.

 "You're late if you're on time. I’m sure you’ve heard of the expression.” 

She bites her tongue, like she's practiced and finds her seat at the conference table.   

“Anyway,” Mason starts walking over to the whiteboard and Iris catches Linda eye from across the table. She holds up the latte as an offer in explanation. What, she mouths, making sure to keep silent through Mason’s tirade.

Linda shrugs, and Iris thinks maybe she jumped the gun. It doesn’t stop the feeling of guilt growing in her chest, however. Linda knows she’s been lying, or telling half-truths recently much to her denial and this front she was putting on was only making it worse.

“That’s where you two will come in,” Mason is looking at Iris now, and like a deer caught in headlights she’s momentarily stuck.

“What?”

“I take it you weren’t listening Miss West,” he sighs, in what could be a disappointing sigh but Iris gets the feeling he’s exaggerating. “I need you and Miss Park to report to the quad. The Sociology Club is holding an event that we need covered.”

Her brow dips. Iris did not join the news team to write about fluff pieces on campus. Those spots were regulated to underclassmen. She’s about to argue as much when Linda snaps her laptop shut.

“Great, we’ll take it.” She glares at Iris, telling her without so many words to shut up and follow her.

“I don’t know why you didn’t let me tell him off,” Iris grumbles from around her to-go cup, drinking the last drop of her latte and disposes it in the trash can when they are outside. “He is so full of himself.”

“He is but,” Linda offers in a much calmer tone, “maybe biting off the lead editor’s head, the same one I remind you that will recommend us to the CCPN, isn’t such a fantastic idea." 

Iris knows she's right, even if she is too stubborn to admit it. A reference from Mason would set her up to potentially intern at one of the greatest media outlets across the country. But, and this is a very strong but, Mason is such a nuisance. He literally makes working for him unbearable.  

“Don't complain, this should be easy enough for us to knock it out of the park.”

“And Mason will still find something to criticize.” They turn the corner, walking down the stairway that leads out onto an open field on the rear section of campus. 

“Even if he does,” and they both roll their eyes simultaneously, “I heard this will be fun, apparently the Sociology Club holds this experiment every year, testing to see if their theory remains the same.” 

“Which is?”

“That the human race is more alike than what it seems.”

“Sounds fun.” The statement is dripping in sarcasm. Iris can’t help it. Sarcasm is her second language, one that Linda has become well versed in.   

“I don't know why you seem so opposed to this, it’s almost like taking a Cosmo quiz. You love stuff like that.”

Iris pauses mid step, insulted that Linda could think they were one in the same. One was done out of boredom while she waited in line at the supermarket - this was because her editor had some type of personal vendetta against her.  “It’s different and you know it.”

Linda smirks more to herself as she turns on her heel, leaving Iris to follow in her wake. They cut across the lawn and stop at the cusp of a crowd of students surrounding a table. It’s decorated with a blue banner that reads, ‘The Sociology Club Presents Skin Deep’.

Iris goes for broke as they near the table, “Do I really have to do this?”

Linda takes her by the hand, forcefully pulling her forward as Iris digs her boots into the earth. “Even Lois Lane had to write a fluff piece before winning a Pulitzer.”

Cutting to the front of the line, they flash their media badges at one of the guys manning the table. “Iris West and Linda Park here to report for Central U. News.”

“Righteous.” The guy, whose name tag reads ‘Trevor’ offers a handshake and a kind smile to both ladies. “It’s always cool when we can garner the school’s attention.”

When Iris rolls her eyes, Linda swats at her, offering her best smile - one that they’ve jokingly referred to as Susie whenever Linda had to act the part. “Would you mind telling us what we’ve got going on here today?” 

Iris pulls out the tape recorder that she always keeps on her person, and holds it up to Trevor. “This will be on record,” she warns but Trevor pays it no never mind, giving a careless nod so Iris who hits record, queuing him to begin.

“Ladies the purpose of the social experiment that we’re holding here today is to find two strangers and center their common ground, to have them discuss taboo topics -” 

Iris ask into the recorder, “what do you consider taboo?”

“Race, religion, sex.”

“And how do you determine which questions to ask? Is there a study you take beforehand?” 

“We do hold an online survey that we contribute out at the beginning of the year for all incoming or returning students. Now, whether they choose to take it is up to their own discretion but the percentage we get back, we tally up the most talked about topics and base our questions from those. From there we separate them at random by six and place them in these baggies,” he motions to the table where it’s piled with index cards wrapped in sandwich bags. “Sociology is the study of social behavior, we recognize that certain topics are deemed off limits especially when you’re dealing with people who you aren't close to. So this experiment is to break down those barriers, skip the middle man sort of speaking and to see how far one is willing to go to express who they truly are.”

“With a stranger?”

“With a stranger,” Trevor confirms. “It’s really about seeing that people, no matter what walk of life or path they set out on are really one in the same. We all have needs, wants, fears and little moments that stand out for us. They just happen to be slightly different than the next persons.”

“And this has been proven a success before?” Linda ask.

Trevor nods, looking around at the pairings on the lawn. “This study has been taking place since the fall of 2010, we’ve had a few negative outcomes but for the most part a positive feed has come back. We’re not saying you have to go off and becomes best friends with the person you take a test with, but friendships, heck even some relationships have been formed. A lot of the surveys that come back to us have expressed that it was a relief to be open and honest with someone from the start.”

Iris stops the recording, “I think that’s all we need.  Thank you for your time Trevor.”

“It’s no biggie, hey, why don’t you ladies sign up. If you’re taking a humanities course this semester we report it to your professor for extra credit points.”

Iris’s “no thank you” mixed with Linda’s “sign me up.”

“Oh come on Iris, it’ll be fun.” Linda scribbled her name on the clipboard Trevor offered.

“For who?”

“You’re friends right Iris, it will be fun.” His smile stretched to almost match Linda’s, “and oh, would you look at that. We’ve got two willing participants walking up as we speak.” Trevor greets the incoming students with a firm handshake. “S’up gentleman.”

Iris turns just in time to see Barry recognize her, and a deep blush settles in when another guy with long hair worn in a messy bun walks into her line of vision.

“You folks are just in time, as it happens I’ve got two beautiful ladies ready to have an open and honest talk.” Trevor winks directly at Iris and she trails back, standing behind Linda in a poor attempt to hide herself.

“Cool, free extra credit points.” The one Iris doesn't know exclaims with a fist bump in the air before signing his John Hancock. She watches Barry shake himself out of his stupor and sign his name on the following line. 

“We can just take anyone?” Iris ask, hand already hovering one bag and when Trevor nods, she picks it up and grabs for Barry’s hand, much to his own confusion, and carts him away to a vacated bench outside of the Student Union.

She pushes him down, and sits beside him before he has time to question her.

He raises a brow instead. 

The red undertone of her skin is more present, as heat flashes across her cheeks. “What?” 

“Nothing,” he shakes his head in a way that says it’s most definitely not nothing. “I just have to keep reminding myself that you’re … aggressive.” 

“Or I just know what I want, when I want it.” She hears the way it comes out, and the double meaning it could have easily been mistaken for. Now Barry’s cheeks are flaming as red as hers. “Not that I…”

“I know what you meant.”

“Good,” She waste no time affirming but adds, “I just didn't want to get stuck with the other guy.” That was as much a lie as it was true. A lie because she didn't need Barry to come to her rescue and as far as truth went, well she wasn't exactly ready to think about that either.

“Cisco is cool.”

“Cisco?”

“My friend,” Barry points his gaze to his friend and Linda walking across the path in the direction of the food truck, Cisco with his head thrown back in laughter.

“I’m sure he is.” But he isn't you, are the unsaid words left on her tongue. “Why, did you want to pair up with Linda?”

He does that thing where he looks at a loss for words when finally, “No. No. I just, I didn’t think you’d want to cause any attention to us.”

“Us?”

He pulls at the end of his sleeve, forgoing her question.

She falls back onto the bench, watching as the last of the student filter about. Iris isn't sure if she should push him to explain more. Us. Us? Was there an us? She doesn't know the answer herself. He was just fun - a lot of fun - but if he was looking for more, well maybe they should stop this. Whatever it was because she couldn’t be that for him. At least not right now. When a fall wind blows by, she balls her fist into her pockets and decides to leave the matter alone for now. “I love the fall.”

“Me too,” He readily says, almost as if he’s eager for the awkward silence to vanquish between them. When she glances at him, disbelieving he starts to ramble. “What’s not to like about it. The leaves are changing colors and everything just looks a thousand times better. I get to wear all of my best scarves. Pumpkin spice lattes,” Iris smirks, rolling her eyes as laughter rolls through her body.  “Halloween and most importantly _Thanksgiving_. I ask you, what is there not to love about this time of season.”

“Very well argued Allen.”

“Please, call me Barry.” His tone is cocky, new to Iris’s ears but she likes it all the same. They start to relax, their bodies seeking warmth that the other is radiating and they pull closer to each other as more wind starts to howl by.

She breaks the seal of the sandwich bag, splitting the six cards evenly between herself and Barry. “We should get this over with.” 

“I dunno Iris,” He lifts up placing his elbow at his knees and looks over at her. “I mean we sorta know each other, right? Won't that be cheating?”

“Boy Scout are you?”

A teasing laugh passes through his lips and he once again sits back, connecting his shoulder to hers. “Not per say.”

“Don’t worry,” she says to ease the tension she can visibly see marking his face. “They’re probably dumb questions anyway and really, if you think about it we are still practically strangers.” To each other's mind, to their emotions but certainly not to their bodies. Iris quiets that part of herself though. She watches as he mulls it over and when he sinks into the hardwood bench, she knows they’re good to go.

“I guess I’ll go first then.” He flips the folded card open, reads it and pink colors the tip of his ears. “On second thought, how about you go first.” 

“Why,” Iris leans into him trying to read the card. “What does it say?”

“Nothing.” 

“Oh, come on,” she attempts to snatch it from his grasp but he pulls away just in time. “Tell me.” 

“I don’t, I don’t,” He deflates when he catches Iris folding her arms, stalking him like a starved man to a piece of meat. She’s used that look on him only once before. “Fine,” he clears his throat, loudly, and reads the card. “What do you think, I think my sexiest feature is?” 

“What?” 

The blush rushes down to the side of his neck, outlining the freckles that rest there.  “I told you. These questions cannot be approved by the department. We should report them.” 

She pinches the outside of his thigh, pulling at his jean more than the muscle that lay underneath. “That’s not that bad.” 

“You don't think so?” 

Iris shakes her head, “No. Besides, I’ve already seen it,” Her grin is too wide for Barry to just leave be, and as her gaze dips down to his crotch, Barry is pretty sure a flock of eagles have swarmed the lower pit of his stomach. In fear of his body betraying him, he crosses his ankle at his leg, and whispers her name in warning. 

She’s laughing now, a full belly laugh and says, “What. It’s hot,” Iris keeps herself from saying you're hot. “But I’ll get my mind out of the gutter if it makes you uncomfortable.” She sucks her lower lip in between her teeth, contemplating. “You re sexiest feature,” she hums, turning on the bench to face him fully, curling her legs under her as she does so. 

She takes in his windblown hair, the slight freckles that trace the cuff of his jaw and down his nape in a zigzag formation that garners Iris’s attention no matter what she’s doing. Then there were his eyes and their perfect shade of green. Her favorite color green and the laugh lines that surrounded them set a string of determination off in her chest, because she was almost willing to do anything to catch a glimpse of that smile he blew her away with. And those same lips that coined fireworks in her system when he nibbled his way along her body, from her neck down and back up, leaving only the faint trace of love marks to remind her. 

She’s stumped, “Barry I,” How did she choose physically when his inner awkwardness was just as irresistible - that is, whenever he allowed her to see it. When the look of pure awe and adoration crossed his face; it was enough to get Iris there as if he was already buried between her thighs. How did she choose? 

“Iris you don't have to answer.” 

But she wants to.

“You’re modest Barry.”

“So you think, I think my modesty is attractive.”

Her lips turn up just a bit, “I think when you're comfortable in your skin, confident about who you are, and you’re just being yourself, yes, I think that’s when you’re at your sexiest.”

“Just plain ol’ Barry Allen?”

“I wouldn't call you plain,” Her lip twitches into a full blown smile that reaches the light of her eyes. “But yeah, when you're just being you, then that’s when I think you're at your sexiest. I think that’s when you feel it too.”

He nods, hair blowing back in the wind. “That was a good answer.”

She tries to play it off, looping a strand of her hair behind her ear as she does so. “What can I say, I’m a good people reader.” She flips the card over, reading her question aloud. “What was your first impression of me?” 

“Like, when I met you at the party?” Iris watches his eyes widen. It feels like her insides are hesitating, waiting for the worse as she recalls that night. How she boldly walked up to him, batted her eyes flirtatiously, traced the muscle in his forearm before following his lead to a bedroom upstairs. She cringes, willing the memory of that night to disappear into the deepest part of her mind. Well maybe not all of it, but most of it.

She must have looked so easy.

“Honestly,” he twist his thumb in his hand, turning to look the other way. “I thought maybe you were confused or lost… or had me mixed up with the wrong guy.” 

“Why would you say that?” 

“Because,” he turns back to her, looking down at Iris under his impossibly long lashes. Another thing to check off on the list of sexy attributes that fell under Barry Allen. “I mean, well, look at you,” he gestures to all of her in one sweeping motion of his hand. “I mean, I’m not, it’s just girls like you don't talk to me.” 

“Oh yeah, and what kind of girls normally talk to you?”

“Pretty girls,” he bites the inside of his cheek, shaking his head. “Girls that are okay, I guess.” He heaves a great sigh, his cheeks puffing out as he explains. “Girls that need help with their classes or know me from the science lab. Girls like that. But certainly not beautiful girls like you.”

Iris ignores the swooping sensation she can feel in her stomach. 

“Why did you talk to me?” he looks directly at her now, sitting up to his full height.

Reliving the moment she saw Scott dancing in the corner of the living room with another girl trumped through her system like she was back in time, stuck in that moment. She watched as his hands trickled lower on her hip and with every each inch his hands took the more Iris could feel the bile rising up to the back of her throat. 

She didn’t want to feel that way. Not anymore. 

Barry just happened to be there. And Iris knew from the moment his shy, uncertain smile lingered on his face that he was going to be the one that would help her forget. 

“You seemed nice.”

“I seemed nice enough to sleep with?”

He got her there. 

“Are you slut shaming me?” She pulls up, dropping her feet to the ground. 

Barry mouth gapes open. “No, no of course not. Any man or woman should be able to express themselves however they may choose, even sexually. I'm not judging.” 

“What a politically correct thing to say.”

“I was just curious. You don't seem like the type to be at party alone. Or like, single. Is what I was trying to say.” 

“Well, I am,” she leaves it at that, leaving a lot of open ended questions for Barry to puzzle over. “Anyway, it’s your turn.” 

“Okay. Who do you think I am?” 

“I think you are a good friend. I think that you care about the greater good, and not just how it affects you directly but the world as a whole. I think you're a good person, Barry. The best kind of person.” 

She looks him over, at his momentarily stunned face before his cheeks lift up and his pearly whites are showing, and the light air of tension just like that, evaporates into thin air. 

“I’m flattered.”

She cocks her head away from him, “Hey, don’t go getting a big head on me now,” she looks down at another card, “what would your ex warn me about you?” Her smile is now teasing, “hmm, I’m intrigued Barry. What are some of your faults? Is there anything I need to be concerned about?”

He shakes his head, peering down to study his beat up Converse. “I don't know, Becky was-”

“Becky?”

“Yes, Becky,” he breaks off to shrug his wide shoulders. “I don't know what she would say.” 

“Oh come on,” she pushes at his side. “There has to be something she was always telling you about.” 

He shrugs again, shaking his head. “I don't know,” he pauses, and she can see him racking his brain for something, twisting his thumb in his hand again. There was no way he was as perfect as he lead on. Iris considered finding this Becky person to unravel the real truth. “I don't know maybe... maybe that I’m never on time.”

“Maybe she wasn't worth being on time for.”

Iris’s breath halts mid exhale. Where had that come from? Her eyes find Barry’s and his eyes are asking the same thing.

“Yeah, maybe.”

Uncomfortable is too easy of a word to describe the silence that settles between them now. Her ears are buzzing and all she can focus on is the unsteady thumb of her heart. She counts each passing one until she can’t take it anymore and points at the card lying limply on his lap. “It’s your turn.” 

“Oh um,” he sounds startled even to her ears and works to get his limbs under control to read the next question. “In five words describe what sex with me would be like…” his voice trails off into a mumble towards the end.

And it makes her laugh knowing that no matter how awkward or intimidating or whatever it was that they were doing, was that he’s still just Barry. Shy, goofy Barry. “I guess I can answer these truthfully since-” 

“You don't have to answer if you don’t want to. We can forget about it, I can ask you a different question.” 

“You’re all out of cards Barry.”

“I can make up my own.” 

She finds his fidgeting endearing, and loops her arms through his to tug him closer, sealing off any gaps that lingers between them.  “It’s okay. You don't have anything to be ashamed of. Sex with you was great.”

That’s one.

“Surprising.”

Two.

“Memorable.”

Three. 

“Fun.” 

Four.

She turns toward him, heat burning in the soft brown of her eyes as she whispers. “And whenever I think about you, it makes me want to do it again.” 

Five.

“Th-that's not one word.” Iris watches his adam’s apple bob. 

Iris shrugs. “So?”

“You think about us having sex?”

All the time. “Sometimes.” Iris catches his eyes traveling down to her lips, and she bites down, unintentionally drawing him in. He’s just a breath away when he whispers, “Oh,” and she can feel the warmth of it paint against her lips. 

But as the sounds of the campus beat on and interlaces the bubble they’ve created in that moment, Iris has to remind herself that this isn't the place. Nor the time, so she backs away, wishing she had the courage to kiss him like her body so desperately wanted.

She reads her last question.

“Do you think we have chemistry?”

His voice is sure and unwavering. “Yes.”

**…**

Overtime Barry has discovered that Iris is a shameless flirt.

That she’s tactile. More than once he’s watched her trace the freckles on his forearm, brush the tip of his jaw with the pad of her thumb or run her fingers through his nape.

Maybe she was just that way with him.

Barry hoped he was the only one.

Because.

 Because, he likes it. 

He likes her.

“So what’s the deal with you and that girl?” 

“What girl?” Caitlin looks up from the couch, snapping her anatomy book shut with a loud thunk. “There’s a girl?” She turns to Barry, who’s sitting next to her. “How come I didn’t know you were seeing someone?”

Barry cuts his eyes at Cisco, transferring his annoyance at full force but as Cisco walks over to the television to power on the PS4 without so much as glance back, Barry is forced to settle down. He doesn't even bother to look at Caitlin. 

“That's because I’m not. It’s nothing.”

“Oh, it's something alright.” Barry’s eyes strain against their sockets. _Shut up!_ Cisco is either oblivious or choosing not to care as he falls into the chair beside the couch and says, “she practically marked you as her territory the other day, don’t think I didn’t notice how cozy you two were. That’s right, I’ve got eyes in the back of my head.” He perches his feet up on the coffee table one foot at a time, and Caitlin pushes them off.

Cisco narrows his eyes towards her to find Caitlin standing her ground, tilting her head to the side as if to say, try me. With one loud huff, Cisco redirects his attention back over to Barry. “Anyway, so what's the deal man? You two going out or what?” 

“I...I,”

“Who is she?” Caitlin asks in earnest, sitting up to offer her full attention in a look that says ‘spill’.

“Iris.”

“Iris as in West? The reporter?”

“Yeah, why.”

“Oh dude, she’s hot.”

Caitlin cut her eyes at Cisco. “Really?” And both boys know that ‘really’ is not only rhetorical but to stop talking all together.

But Cisco was hard to teach. “What, I’m a guy. I’m allowed to think a girl is hot. It’s not like I’m calling her out of her name or anything.”

He’s got a point, but Barry keeps that comment to himself. Being on Caitlin Snow’s bad side wasn't necessarily a good thing - Barry would never understand how Cisco put up with it. He was starting to think that his friend liked it there.

“How do you know her? Where’d you two meet?” Caitlin finally asked after having, only what Barry could describe it as a silent beat down with her eyes with Cisco.

“At the party." 

“And?”

Barry shrugs, what more could he say. ‘Oh I meet this amazing girl that night and we had sex. Hot sex. Twice. And then about a month later we ran into each other at the library and she made me jizz my pants in minutes. Sometimes we see each other around campus but we don’t hang out or anything. Oh, and today was actually the first time we talked without both or one of us getting each other off.’ Barry’s brows fold. That sounds wrong even to him.

“And that’s it.”

“Liar,” both Caitlin and Cisco say at the same time.

Barry rest his head on the back of the couch, closing his eyes against the impending migraine he could feel festering. “Seriously guys, it’s nothing.”

They call him a liar again in unison, prompting the eye roll behind closed eyelids. They were doing that thing again, were they talked at the same time.

“Come on, Bear. Tell us about her,” The med student poked him in the ribs, and he pushed her hand away, scooting down to the end of the couch. She was going to keep pestering him until she got some answers but, honestly, what could he say? He and Iris weren’t an item. They were two separate people living separate individual lives and they sometimes fooled around, if he could even call it that. One night at a party and a bathroom stall could hardly be labeled as anything. It was just a one night stand with an added bonus.

That wouldn’t be an acceptable excuse for Caitlin, who was always telling him that he needed to get serious and find someone who was good enough for him. ‘You’re better than that Barry’ he could just hear her disapproving mom tone now.

And Iris - what if she didn't want to be a “something”? She said she was single. Barry considers that maybe she liked being that way. 

“There’s nothing going on. We met at the party and we’re just like, I dunno,” he shrugs. “We’re just hanging out. We ran into each other a couple of times on campus. That’s it, it’s no big deal.”

“I smell potential love interest.” Barry opens his eyes just enough to see Cisco singing horribly off key with a shit eating grin.

“Seriously guys,” he looks at both Caitlin and Cisco, “it's nothing. She’s a cool person but we’re not, like, doing anything.”

Lie. Lie. Lie. He is such a fucking liar.

**…**

She tries her luck at the library and sighs in relief when she finds him sitting in the same spot as before. 

“I don't have your number?” It's the first things she says falling into the chair beside him, and watches the flush on his cheeks appear. She is certain that she wont tire of it anytime soon. 

“Iris. H-hey.”

“Hey,” she smiles when he twist in his seat to look out at the other occupied tables and students walking the rows of bookshelves. Iris is no prude, but she wasn't daring enough to become an exhibitionist in the middle of a crowded library. Now, if they were upstairs, alone, in the back where no one loomed then maybe… and nope, don’t go there Iris. “So, can I have your number?”

She swipes her thumb over the screen, unlocking her Galaxy and shoving it in his direction.

“Sans password. You’re a dangerous woman.” He sets off with adding his contact information and Iris grins at the name he’s saved himself under. ‘Allen. I mean (the image of a strawberry appears taking place for his name.) It’s cute and original and God damnit it makes her stomach do that stupid swooping fluttery thing she hates.

“What can I say, I like to live on the edge.”

He snorts, silent, but present and turns back to the reading on his MacBook when she send him a text and the entire side of his neck turns a deep shade of red as he takes in the three emojis she’s sent.

Peach, Eggplant and a waterfall.

She squeezes her thighs together as she watches Barry readjust in his chair.

“So what did you need?” He stutters after quickly adding her to his contacts.

“Well,” she brushes her hand against his thigh, heart floundering at the muscle she can feel jump there and works her hand further into his lap, stopping just short of the seam. “The Rocky Horror Picture Show is playing at the downtown theater. Have you ever been?”

“No.”

“Have you ever seen the play, the movie - heard any of their songs?”

“Nope,” he stiffens when she squeezes the inside of his thigh, close enough to the bulge they can both feel forming there. 

“That’s too bad, you’re missing out,” her hand drifts up, “Now you definitely have to come with me Friday.” Her thumb slides over his shaft in one breezy upstroke that has Barry doubling over in his seat. His eyes dilating as he looks around the room. “Iris,” he fumbles, and Iris gives him one more good squeeze before she pulls her hand away. “I’ll pick you up at nine okay?”

He nods rapidly, pulling down the hem of his sweater in the process. “Y-yeah, I’ll see you then.”

 **…**  

Barry's looks at his watch and finds its ten minutes pass. The car is sweet with Iris’s scent and the windows are fogged, and if it weren't for the cold night it wouldn't be hard to tell what the two had gotten up to. Beside him Iris is working to straighten out her bra which makes him kind of somber. He’s sort of in love with her breast, even more so with her nipples that are thick and round like the Dots Candy he’s fond of. Even more so by the reaction he pulls from her whenever he sucks one into his mouth. 

“Do I look okay?” Iris runs her hands through her tousled, curly hair and distractedly Barry imagines himself with a fist full of her dark brown her as he takes her from behind. The rest of her body is sated with a warm afterglow that only an orgasm could give her, all swollen lips and heaving chest and Barry decides she’s never looked better.

“You look amazing.”

“And you a terrible liar,” she jokes, turning to reach up between the driver and passenger seat to turn the rear-view mirror in her direction, providing Barry with an ample view of her backside clad in the skintight black jeans she wore.  

His fingers itch to reach out and trace the curve there, staring at the dip of her back and down to the beginning of her thighs. She was so tempting, walking sex if Barry had to describe her on sight. Controlling his body was starting to become a task especially since things between them were still so unclear. For the most part Barry followed her lead in the few times their encounters went beyond polite conversation.

But when she leans down even more, and her ass is directly in his face, Barry all but shouts that it’s time to go. “I mean, we’re already pretty late.” He peers out the fogged window to find the crowd has disappeared inside.

Iris plops back down beside him, zipping up her leather jacket and tying the scarf around her neck. “You’re right. C’mon,” Barry follows her from the backseat of the Honda, and waits while she straightens invisible wrinkles in her clothes. 

“Two tickets please.” Iris says as they step up to the attendant manning the single booth.

“That'll be ten dollars,” an older woman who sounds like she sucks a pack of cigarettes every hour on the hour says dryly, and just as Barry goes to reach for his wallet, Iris has paid the fair without further question.

“I would’ve gotten that you know.”

“You're not going to go all cave man barbarian on me are you?”

The shake of the head is clouded by the darkness in the room; leaving only the light from the screen. “Of course not.” The sound of the music and movie goers who sing along, drown him out.

_Go see the man who began it. Janet._

So he says louder, “Of course not, Iris.”

_When we met in his science exam it. Janet._

“I was just trying to be a gentleman.” He feels the need to continue to explain when she doesn't respond.

_Made me give you the eye and then panic. Janet._

“And I appreciate it Barry, but I invited you. So I think it’s only fair that I pay for the date.”

_Now I've one thing to say and that's..._

And oh shit, “this is a date?” Barry catches the way she pauses as they move along the corridor and stop at the start of the ramp.

_Dammit, Janet, I love you._

“You know, like two friends hanging out. A friend date.” He barely hears her as the crowd starts to sing louder.

 _Dammit Janet._  

Friends. He tries to wrap that word around his mind but every time he does it’s has a cynic tone to it. _Friends._ Caitlin is his friend. Cisco is his friend. Oliver is his friend – for some reason Iris did not seem to fit under that category. For crying out loud his hand was just buried knuckle deep inside of her in search of her sweet spot that wrung an orgasm from her body like a tsunami crashing to the shore. It was his mouth that swallowed out her groans of content as she whispered his name repeatedly. For Christ sake, he could still smell her on his fingers and they were just friends.

_Oh Brad, I'm mad._

“Oh.”

With some luck, they manage to find two seats in the crowded amphitheater towards the back and he lets her sit first before taking the seat beside her.

“We’re just having fun, Barry. You know that right?”

In the back of his mind he should know this. It’s what he’s been telling himself since that night, to prepare himself for the inevitable but hearing her say it out loud... 

“Yeah. I-I know.”

“I think you’re great it’s just that-”

Barry takes a wild guess, “you’re not looking for anything serious.”

“So you get it, right?”

He was starting to. 

_Dammit Janet. I love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out I'm a sucker for Cisco and man buns. Let this happen on the show, yes?  
> I don't own anything that has to do with anything...  
> Also, I'm looking for a beta - can anyone recommend?  
> And finally, thank you. thank you, a thousand times thank you for all the lovely feedback.


	3. III.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My notes at the end contain spoilers from the latest episode.

Barry doesn’t see Iris again until they run into each other at a Halloween party.

His costume is last minute; conveniently he has a red and white striped sweater. Cisco has a red and white pom-pom hat and after a short trip to the store he’s commandeered enough apparel to become Where’s Waldo.  

He steps into his neighbor's house, and automatically he finds her in the crowd, dancing in the middle of the floor with her friend and... some _guy_.

Cisco hands him a red solo cup but he doesn’t stick around. No, he sets out on a path to the patio in the back. Cisco calls after him but Barry just needs some air. He needs to get away from her and the guy whose hands are on her waist.

Despite the decreasing temperature of Central City, people are staggered around the backyard scantily dressed in their best Halloween costumes. Barry mumbles an apology as he cuts through a hot nun and half-dressed fireman to stomp down the stairs, the beer in his cup sloshes over the brim by the time he finds himself at the edge of the yard where an old swing hangs from the tree. He sits, tilts the cup back and downs the draft in one go.

He’s never been much of a drinker. It was usually done out of necessity to be more social among his peers but tonight, “Oh fuck it.” He grimaces, swallowing the last of it. He drops the cup into the grass, and leans back into the chair, kicking his legs out to start the rocking motion. 

Up until this point, Barry was avoiding her. He had been for the past two weeks. Whenever she texted or called, he was suddenly too busy which wasn’t a lie, not completely anyway, midterms were right around the corner and Thanksgiving break was just on the horizon. He had a lot going on at the moment; at least that's what he told himself whenever she reached out.

If Iris noticed, she never brought it up which Barry couldn't have been more grateful for. 

I mean, what was he going to say? ‘Oh I think, I like you - like a lot and this arrangement is just not working out for me.' 

What guy in their right mind would say that!? He was living every guy's dream. A no strings attached dream where a very hot, willing girl chose him to get her rocks off on a regular. It should be easy, as simple as explaining why 1+1 = 2 or why the sun rose in the east and set in the west. For God’s sake, hot girl plus sex should equal out to a very happy, very satisfied Barry.

His self-conscious oddly sounds like Cisco, ranting in his Latin flair and maybe - just maybe it’s because real life Cisco would say the exact same thing.  

And he knows, God does he. 

But it doesn’t stop the uneasy feeling that’s settled in the pit of his stomach since the night of the movie.

Barry glances at his watch. It’s just after eleven and he knows Cisco will be upset if he tries to duck out now but he can’t stay either. He’s not so much in the partying mood anymore.

He plants his feet, stopping the swing as he starts to formulate an excuse reasonable enough to head out when his phone buzzes.

He opens the text without really looking.

**Iris 11:25**

**R u here? Been waiting for u.**

And he’s sucked in.

**Barry 11:25**

**backyard**

Iris is standing in front of him within minutes. The cream layers of her dress hug her curves in a way Barry appreciates more than she’ll ever know. He starts at her feet and works his way up, noticing the high slit that exposes her long legs and the smooth skin of her thigh before he works his way up to her face. Her hair is down in looping curls that frame her face perfectly and she looks, “amazing. You look amazing.” He’s stupefied, as he shakes his head in wonder. “You always look amazing.”

Barry swears he sees her blush.

“Thank you. I would hope the Goddess Aphrodite would inspire such a reaction.”

He nods, noting her teasing tone and watches her lean against the trunk of the tree.

“What are you doing back here?”

“Needed some air.” It sounds like a lousy excuse, but it’s the truth. He waits for her to say something but she goes quiet, and the sounds of the party interlace between their stillness. She looks away only for a moment before turning back to him.

“Are you okay?” She doesn’t wait for him to answer. “Lately you’ve been distant.” So she has noticed. “More than usual anyway.”

“I’m fine.” Lie. Lie. Lie. He’s a liar that lies all the fucking time. “Just busy with school and,” he clears his throat, “more school.” Now, you sound like a liar too.

Iris nods and crosses her arms. She’s processing and Barry knows he’s been caught. He’s preparing to be called out on it, and tries to weave another excuse that sounds believable when she reaches out to trace the rim of his glasses. It’s so unexpected that he catches his breath and holds it as her touch lingers down to the bow of his top lip.

When it treks down to the seal of his lips and holds there, his gaze is driven up to find hers’ heated. “You want to get out of here?”

Say no, he tells himself. Make up a reason to stay. It’ll be better this way - this side of his conscious doesn't sound anything like Cisco. No, this is all Barry, the sane part of him that knows it’ll keep him out of trouble but before he can open his mouth, she’s pulling him up and they’re walking next door.

When he flips the switch to light his room, it’s almost as if he’s woken up from a daze.  

He looks around and wishes he would've straightened up before he left. He’s got clothes strewn across the floor. Big Belly Burger on his nightstand and his course work and books are randomly placed on his bed, the floor and his desk. But she doesn’t say anything, instead he watches her take it all in as if she’s seeing his room for the first time, and truthfully she is. The only other time she’d been in there; the room was downcast in shadows.

His eyes follow her as she stands in one spot, her gaze moving from the Albert Einstein and Harrison Wells posters down to the Princess Bubblegum action figure that sits on his bookshelf filled with comics and science fiction.

Barry moves over to his desk, sits, as he starts to distract himself with wiping off a thin layer of dust.

“Nice room,” she finally says.

“Sorry, about the mess. The last few weeks have been hectic.”

Iris walks over to him, standing in between his parted legs and smiles. “No worries, you should see my room.” Her hands work their way up to his shoulders, squeezing lightly before tailing away down to his chest.  “I don't have long,” she starts. “Linda is going to come looking for me.”

"How long?"

"Fifteen minutes, maybe. I told her I was going to the bathroom.” She makes a face. “I haven't been completely honest with her lately.”

He understands.

He hasn’t been honest with the people he cares about most either. It’s hard to come to the realization, much less confess to those people that he’s someone’s secret. Someone's secret shame.

He want’s that part of him to shut up though.

So he steps forward and kisses her. Hard and bruising. When she opens her mouth and allows him to capture her tongue she moans, falling into him. They become all frantic hands and movements until he takes her by the waist and pulls her into his lap.

Her legs part to straddle him and he’s pushing the skirt of her dress up at the same time she reaches for his belt buckle. She is the first to break past the barrier, and starts to unbutton his jeans before drawing the zipper down to reveal his already hard member uncomfortably bent within his boxers. She tugs up and out and releases him. Barry moans into her mouth at the feel of her warm touch greeting him in a way that’s familiar but missed. His hands roam up her thighs, lifting the skirt until her entire lower half is exposed and open for his taking, for his pleasure, and he marvels at the heat he finds there.

He finds the cotton of her underwear and his thumb strokes over the lining, slowing as it nears the bundle of nerves that sets her entire being haywire. He follows a pattern back down, averting from the place he knows she wants to be touched the most.

“Barry.”

He pulls her forward, sucking in her cries as his thumb pushes in and splits her folds, traveling up and “oh,” she sobs against his lips as he works tiny circles against her clit.

She is so open, and wanton and unrestrained; it was one of the things Barry liked most about her. Iris can’t keep still as he quickens the pace and her mouth retracts from his to find the pulse in his neck.

She nibbles first as her hips start to grind down to match the motion of his hand and sucks down to release a watery moan. 

The friction of his hand pushing against the material of her underwear triggers her orgasm. It’s fast, unexpected but undoes her all the same. She stiffens only for an instant before she lets loose and rides out the wave centered between her legs. “ _Hun_ , _hun_ oh F- _Barry_.”  

She squirms against him, seemingly coming down from her height of pleasure and molds her form to his, kissing and mumbling contentedness along the sharp edge of his jaw. Barry watches on, allowing his hand to wonder over her cleft that is now sopping through her underwear to his hand. He pulls them aside and touches her and she mewls into his ear. She licks him there, giving a chaste kiss before finding her way back to his lips and kisses him there. It’s not like before where they clash teeth and tongue, no this kiss is staggering and he can feel it down to his toes at the feel of her lips sliding down the curve of his and she pulls away.

He looks up to find her eyes bright and shining with heat set above her relaxed lazy smile.

And just wow.

Amazing will no longer cut it.

He follows the red path of her undertone down to the cut of her dress and kisses the spot between her cleavage, where it stops. He breathes in. “You smell good.” He says more to himself and kisses her there first followed by a lick of his tongue. “So damn good.”

She smells like flowers in fresh bloom.

“Barry,” the words leave her lips in a whisper but it's enough to redirect his attention. She cradles his face in both hands and welds their lips back together and it’s like the air has vanished from his lungs. They stay that way with her in his lap rocking against him until neither of them can take it for much longer. She has him in her grasp, her palm sliding over his head while her center parts along his length. All he can do is hold her closer, pulling her heat closer to his own until he cracks.

“Iris,” he says her name again and again. His hands move down, sliding the cloth out of the way again and now he can feel her sleek lips part to give way to the underside of his shaft. And, “ _Oh fuck_ ,” he’s not sure whose groan is whose or who’s controlling the tone of their pace, all Barry knows is that he has to be inside of her. He needs to be inside of her. 

“You feel _soo_ , _hunn_ , _sooo_ fucking _good_.” She takes his bottom lips with her as she bites down, pulling away and his lip pops free at the same time her hips slide along his shaft, his swollen head leading the way to part her slick folds. “Please tell me you have a condom.” After the night in the library he went out and bought a whole new box, just in case. He didn't get his hopes up. They're for just in case. Barry nods, finding the wallet in his pocket. When he has it, Iris takes it from him and rips it open. She lifts his member that stands proud in between them and covers him. “Ready?” He only has time to nod before she’s kissing him with fever and lifts up to her toes and directs him inside. Slowly, she lowers down delicious inch by inch until she’s stuffed to the hilt.

A groan escapes her then as the familiar stretch of him inside her makes the sound leave her without knowledge. Almost as if it has to be made. Being filled so fully, stretched and stuffed by him demanded some sort of vocalization to commemorate its occurrence. Barry's hands settle over her ass, and holds on as she moves first by rising up to the balls of her feet. His shaft is just long enough and she is just short enough that straddling him like this does not cause him to exit. His grip tightens and he brings her down in one swift stroke into his lap.

Iris groans and her hips sway. The look of immense satisfaction marks her face and Barry has to hold his breath.

Sex. It’s just sex.

Her hands wind up from his shoulder to the leather padding of his chair, steadying her upper half as their bottom halves start to create a world all their own.

Their mouths came near each other but don’t connect. His gaze just settles on her. Green into brown. Brown into green, and it's as if something unsaid has passed between them that urges her to really move. Her lust fuels his own and before they know it his room is filled with the sounds of their bodies taking control. Of the soft sighs she can’t keep in. Of the biting grunts on his tongue. Over and over again as her hips clash into his meeting every stroke that he has to give.

Back and forth.

Up and down.

Her breath, his breath.

She cries out as she slides down his lewd shaft, and she touches her forehead to his and it steams up his glasses, fogging his vision and he reaches up to remove them.  “No. keep them - _oh fuh_ , on.” Iris twirls her hips, around and around and Barry bucks up, needing to be deeper. She kisses him, briefly when his hand falls away and she lifts back up.

She’s bouncing rapidly now, and Barry is reaching those places he’s needed moments before. “ _Shit_ ,” Iris keens back on the next stroke and expose her neck for Barry’s taking.

“ _Oh fuh, oh fuhk_.” The words die on her tongue and her nails dig harder into the leather, cracking it between her grasp. “ _Barry_.”

He holds on. To her. To his sanity. And steadies his focus on the feel of her ass clenching and unclenching under his touch. 

Down stairs a door slams.

 Upstairs, Iris sinks down onto his cock, fucking him so hard on the chair it starts to protest but she is like a woman possessed. Like a woman in search of something that only Barry can give her. She’s all breathy moans and rabid heat as her hips move fast enough to create a froth forming at his base, and tangles in the slight triangle of hair.

 More noise sounds off through the paper thin walls of the old house but it goes unnoticed, distant and unimportant.

 And Barry looks down, watching himself slide into her tight sheath. Watches as her folds separate around his thick shaft and it ignites the tight coil spring to snap. And he’s coming. “Oh shit,” Barry groans, loud and long. His leg buckles in as pull after pull works its way up his shaft. “Oh fuck Iris.”

His hold on her hips digs into her soft flesh and he pulls her close to keep still as his seed starts to pump deep inside of her. The feeling of him exploding sets Iris off and she writhes on top him.

“Iris,” Her name is a mantra in his dazed state and… another sound from downstairs breaks through his trance. He finds the digital clock on his desk and Caitlin is getting home from her shift. “Oh shit.” Oh shit. Oh fuck, he curses again. They are both still cumming. Iris is still mewling back riding the waves of her pleasure. And Oh fuck. It is taking too long, dangerously long.

 Barry watches Iris mouth sags open, forming the perfect O and feels her walls grip him tightly and it’s like everything has slowed down. Oh no. He thinks to warn her, but she’s too far gone and she’s about to, “Oh fu-” Barry reaches up just in time to muffle her screams in his hand. He feels her barrel down, thighs clamping as her body jerks on its’ own violation before she finally goes still in his arms and slumps forward, forehead shining with sweat as her chest heaves, fighting to catch her breath.

 Barry slowly peels back his palm to Iris’s, “Holy shit,” and chuckles lowly to himself. She nestles herself into the damp skin of his neck and kisses him. Once, twice before she moves up to kiss his lips.

"I should get going," she sighs, seemingly to find her composure and stands from his lap to straighten the flow-y mess of her skit.

Barry stands, discarding the used condom into the waste basket and stuffs himself back into his pants. "Yeah. Of course you do,” she looks at him, cocking her head to the side and he can see the question lining her brows, so he stutters out. “Linda. Linda is probably looking for you by now.”

He makes her wait by his bedroom door as he peeks down the stairs and into the kitchen. There is no sight of Caitlin but he can see the light from under the bathroom door flicker on. He signals for Iris to follow him quietly down the steps and walks her to the front door. “See you around,” she blows him a kiss and is gone in the blink of an eye.

He closes the door just in time to see Caitlin rounding the corner, drying her hands with a paper towel. She stops mid step, surprised to see him.

“What are you doing here? I thought you’d be next door with Cisco.”

Swiping the back of his neck, he runs his hand up into the thick of his hair and eyes her worryingly, almost waiting for his friend to catch onto his uncertainty.

“I forgot - forgot my hat,” he twist in the direction of the stair case. “I just came back over to grab it.”

**…**

“It's good to have you home slugger.”

It's the first thing Barry hears when he opens up the door to his home. Thanksgiving is in two days and already the house smells delicious with different aromas drifting out from the kitchen. Knowing his mom, she must be busy cooking up a storm that would satisfy a house full of family and friends.

“Hey dad.” The younger Allen drops his bag at his feet and shoulders the door closed before stepping into his father's embrace. “How’ve you been?” His voice is muffled by the collar but Henry steps back, a proud smile is nestled into familiar and some new wrinkles on his face and says;

“Better now that you're here. Honey, look who's finally home.”

Nora Allen dressed in her favorite apron steps from around the corner at her husband's insistence, full of grace and beauty and smiles her dazzling smile at the sight of her only son. She pulls the oven mittens off and cradles Barry’s face affectionately, just like all those other times and steps back to take him in.

“Would you look at my boy. You’ve gotten taller.”

Barry blushes. He’s been exactly the same height since his 19th birthday. “And you’re so skinny, do I have to start calling you to remind you to eat.” Only if she didn’t count the Big Belly Burger he consumes like a starved man. Barry chuckles, holding his mom’s hands in his own and smiles down at her.

“I’m fine mom. I’ve been eating and bathing on a regular basis. Promise.”

“Come on Nora, don’t fuss over him, he’s a growing boy. He can take care of himself.” Henry intervenes, placing a hand at his wife's’ hip. “Isn’t that right son?”

“Yeah,” Barry sets his jaw, fighting the smirk he can feel forming. “Totally.”

“See.” Henry kisses her on the cheek, which Nora shoos away with a laugh. The older Allen picks up Barry’s bag and stirs his son in the direction of the staircase, throwing a teasing wink in his wife’s direction. “Come on slugger, let’s get you settled in so we can help your mom out in the kitchen.”

“I’d like that.”

Nora kisses Barry on the cheek before he’s allowed to step in the familiar settings of his childhood home and follows the path set out by his father to his room. “So how've you been?”

“I’ve been good.” Barry scratches at his nape and sits down to remove his shoes.

“That’s not what the Facebook tells me.” Henry says, sitting beside him.

“The Facebook dad,” Barry chuckles. “It’s just Facebook.”

“Oh, to-may-to - to-mah-to,” Henry waves a hand dismissively. “What I’m saying is that it looks like you’re having the time of your life at Central U. I saw you met Stein and took a tour of S.T.A.R. labs. That must have been incredible.”

“It was great dad.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re having a great time, you are, aren’t you? I mean, college is more than just your school work. It’s about building and creating friendships and living carelessly and...”

Barry chuckles, slapping his father's’ shoulder. “I know. I know. Trust me I’m... I’m experiencing things.”

“Oh,” Henry nods in a slow tune that matches Barry’s and when his son lifts a brow, the older man catches on. “ _Oh_.”

“Yeah.”

“So you met someone?”

Barry swipes at his face, his fingers linger over his jaw and he shrugs. “Yeah, I did. I mean-”

“So tell me about her. Or him.”

“Dad.”

“What, we live in a new world.”

“Dad.”

Henry holds his hand up in ‘what’ gesture, and gives a shrug of his own. “All I’m saying is that your mother and I love you no matter what. We accept you and your love no matter the circumstances.”

“Dad,” Barry rolls his eyes. A blush starts at the tip of his ears and works across the bridge of his nose effectively turning him pink.

“So what’s her or his - their name? I mean, if there is some… one...”

If there was ever a time to figure out where Barry gets his awkwardness from, this moment would have been it. He rolls his eyes with a shake of his head. Like father like son as they say. “There is one…” and he lets the end of the statement die off.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He sighs, biting the tail end of his bottom lip. “Her name is Iris.” He doesn’t know if he should say much more. She never specifically told him not to. Whatever they were doing was always just left unsaid, like it was an unwritten rule that they weren't allowed to talk about.

“She sounds beautiful son.”

“She is,” Barry automatically says, like its truest statement he’s ever made. Iris beauty can’t be matched, she exceeded above and beyond any measure of common beauty but he could never tell her that. He could never be completely honest with her in that way. He falls back onto the bed, and stares up at the ceiling. “She is so beautiful,” he finally says when he’s managed to get his thoughts in order. “And witty and ambitious.” He finds his father’s stare at the end of the bed. “She’s a writer. For the school paper and she wants to work for CCPN once she graduates, but she wants to go to Grad School first and dad, she’s going to do it. She’s going to be exceptional because that’s the type of person she is ya’know... The type of person that goes after whatever she puts her mind to, she can do it. She’s just,” Barry shrugs trying to think of the right words. “She’s just amazing, dad and-”

“And you sound like you're smitten. Is this love?”

Barry closes his eyes against his father's’ calculating gaze. He puffs out his chest, ready to say something of the effects that no, it couldn’t be. Love, great love like the one his parents shared took time. It didn’t just happen over fleeting glances, random hook ups and small conversation. So why did he want to say yes?  

“Dad, when did you know?” One eye opens just enough to peer at the form of his father. “About mom, when did you know?”

“Oh,” Henry makes a sound in the back of his throat and smiles. “So you do. Love this girl, don't you?”

For the first time Barry can remember, he doesn't know the answer to a problem. She hasn't done anything to make him fall in love with her. All things considered; he should be in lust with her but he frowns at the thought of using Iris in such a way.

“Dad, I,” he pauses and puts it into the simplest terms possible for him to understand and starts over. “As a scientist, I know there's nothing magical about what makes us feel something for someone else but, dad when I see her smile - it cannot be science. It just can't be. Does that make any sense?”

“More than you’ll ever know.” Henry smiles a smile that Barry has seen many times before, mostly directed to his mother, and he knows - just knows he’s doomed. “But it’s complicated.” Henry guesses, and Barry closes his eyes again. How does he do that? “C’mon, son. Tell me all about it.”

And so he does. Barry tells his father everything starting at the beginning of the house party (he’s careful enough to skip over certain details. He’s mortified at the thought of Henry knowing that he’s actively - and let’s just skip over that part. There are some things that no father and son should share) until the point of returning to the Halloween party to find her talking to the same guy as before.

“I’m going out of my mind, right?” He hopes that his father can confirm said thought. That it’s not love - just some weird infatuation he has with her, but no that sounds creepy, and he doesn't want to be creepy. He’s just a guy living in his prime and he enjoys the company of one specific girl. Yeah, that sounds much better.

“That is a toughy.”

“Yeah.”

“And have you tried to talk it out with her?”

Barry shakes his head.

“Why haven't you?”

Because there was nothing to talk about. Iris just wants to be friends. “Her mind is pretty made up.”

“Yeah, but that was then and this now.”

“And trust me dad, nothing has changed.” Barry defends himself. What was there to be said of a relationship that exchanged slight pleasantries on the occasion they ran into each other on campus only for them to pretend like nothing happened after they slept together. “I can’t even really call us friends, but when we’re together, when it’s just the two of us… dad it’s surreal. I don’t know.” He sits up, holding his hands at his knees. “Maybe it’s just the excitement over the prospect of something new.” He shrugs and says, “I don’t know.”

That’s him. Bartholomew Henry Allen. The boy who knew nothing.

“Maybe,” the doctor finally says but with a pause to gain his son’s full attention. “Maybe you have to put yourself out there and, no,” he grips his son by the shoulder when he tries to turn away. “Now, just hear me out. I know it seems scary at first and I know you’re probably thinking your old man is losing it but trust me - no man has ever gone hungry when he’s dared to speak out. Slugger, you don’t want to go through life wondering what if. Heck, what if this girl, Iris, is the one for you. Do you want to look back on wasted time or worse?”

“No.”

“Well then, you have to put yourself out there. You might not get the response you were hoping for but at least you’ll know. And that’s a hell of a lot better than not.” Barry sighs, turning away from his father, a small smile trudging at the corner of his lips.

“You’re right.”

“I know I am,” Henry chuckles and stands to his feet. He groans as he stretches to his full height. “It looks like your old man is turning into an old man.” He jokes to Barry’s snort. He waits for his son to stand beside him when he clasp him on the shoulder. “Listen up here, Barry. Anyone woman would be proud to stand by your side. You believe that don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, then make her see that.” He moves over to the door, “now come on, your mom is waiting.”

**…**

‘Happy Thanksgiving from our family to yours’

The caption reads under the picture Iris stops at on her Instagram feed. It’s a photo of Barry surrounded by people tucked together on a couch. On his left is an older man with light brown hair, that’s graying on the sides. He’s handsome but in a rugged way and shares the same frame as Barry, just slightly more built. To his right is a woman, with auburn hair, a graceful smile and kind eyes, just like Barry's.

They look like one big happy family with small children dotting along the end of the couch, and an elderly couple smiling from the far end and three other people that look to be around Barry’s age sitting on the other side.  

She double taps on the picture.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

The sound of her brother’s voice breaks her concentration and she looks up to find him walking into the living room with a plate full of food in one hand (his third) and a can of pop in the other.

She tilts her phone just enough to show him the screen. “Nothing. I’m just on Instagram living vicariously through the people I follow.”

It’s just her and Wally this holiday season. Her dad opted to take the 48 hour shift so he could have Christmas free and the rest of her relatives are down south in Texas, and since they’re more of them there than here, they exchange pleasant phone calls over speaker phone and promise to make the trip in December.

Wally plops down on the lazy boy beside the couch and places his Pepsi on the table beside it when he ask, “got any plans tonight?”

“On Thanksgiving? No, do you?”

“I’m meeting Jessie for a movie later.”

“So is this like a date-date?”  

He smacks loudly on his food and Iris thinks Jessie should be so lucky, “why would this be a date?” And Iris rolls her eyes. Her brother, the oblivious.

“Because you like her.”

Wally laughs, putting his plate aside to look at his sister. “I don't like her. Jessie is cool. We’re friends, that’s all.”

“I don't know about that. I’ve seen the way you two are together. There’s definitely something going on.”

“And it’s called friendship. Platonic friendship.”

“If the rest of the human race were as blind as you, we’d all cease to exist.”

Wally chuckles, scooping macaroni to the edge of his plate. “Trust me. Jessie is not interested in me that way and I’m not interested in her. We’re just best friends.”

“Who love each other.”

“No,” he has the nerve to blush. “I mean, okay, yes I love her. I care about her but I don't see us you know,” he creates a circle with his thumb and index finger and sticks his other finger through it. When Iris reels back he dissolves into a fit of laughter. “What’s with you tonight, anyway? Why do you care so much about my love life suddenly?”

“I don’t.”

He makes a mhmm noise, that’s oddly similar to the way her father sounds when he doesn't believe her either. “Can’t a sister want to see her little brother happy?”

“Sure,” Wally sits back into the comfort of the chair crossing his ankle at his leg. “But this is you Iris.” He finds her eyes with his own, and nods. Wally knows her better than she knows herself sometime - call it his brotherly intuition.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means.” He picks up his plate and starts in the direction of the kitchen. “But never mind, you’ll tell me when you’re ready,” he calls over his shoulder. In the few minutes it takes him to wrap his plate and put it in the fridge, it leaves her time to wonder what he’s yammering on about when he saunters back into the living room. “I know you’re happy here doing your introverted thing, but do you want to come with me and Jessie?”

“How kind of you to invite me as your third wheel.”

Wally rolls his eyes and steps towards the door. “Ignoring your sarcasm, now are you coming or not? The movie starts in thirty and I still have to pick up Jessie.” 

Iris glances at the blank screen on her phone and the memory of the easy smile on Barry's face. “Why not, I don’t have anything better to do.”

**…**

When Patty invites him out Barry doesn’t give it a second thought. Why would he, they're just two friends catching up. 

Her family, like always receives an invitation to his home for the holidays. And like always, the share laughs and stories.

Patty swoons over his cousins adorableness. She pigs out on his mom’s food and trades inside jokes with his father.

Needless to say everything is completely normal when she suggest they hit up the theater that night, because who in their right mind is going to miss Captain America: Civil War?

He has no reason to think that this night, of all nights, wouldn't be anything but next to normal. And why should he? He and Patty have known each other since they were in diapers: a result of his mother befriending her mother on the first day of Pre-K.

So why, why, why, _why_ would he ever suspect, ever _think_ that Patty would lay one on him right outside the theater, just as he's in the middle of comparing the movie adaptation to the comics? And why, he stresses this to God or to anyone who is listening for that matter (because he needs an answer, he really, _really_ does) would Iris be there, right over Patty's shoulder, starring at him like she's seen a ghost. "Just fuck my life already."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How can I be happy with the scene between Barry and Iris tonight when Henry passed away moments later?  
> How apropos that he would die just as I feature him in the story.  
> Silent sob - rest in heaven Henry Allen. 
> 
> The feels... [insert gif of Castiel sobbing]
> 
> Thanks for the love. A million and one thank yous to the people who actively follow this story.


	4. IV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you all accept that I have been deceased and since then deliver(t) from the final because I live for the WestAllen slowburn and Flashpoint Paradox - like what even is life!? 
> 
> This has been unedited.

Iris can’t help herself. 

She’s stalking him. 

Okay, so maybe stalk is too harsh a word.

She’s a reporter after all, and acquires fairly decent investigative skills so she’s investigating him. Yeah, that sounds much better; at least to her anyway.

And really, she should be applauded, _praised even_ , because it took her this long to do so.

She could've checked his Facebook, his Instagram or Snapchat within the first week after their coupling. You know what they say about a curious mind - it never rest. So someone should be down on their knees thanking her, right now, because she kept from being that girl who goes through 56 weeks’ worth of social media history. Don't worry, she’ll wait.

What, you can’t judge her, we’ve all been there.

I mean, yes, okay - okay so she followed him on Instagram and poked his Facebook as a sign that he was good company. He’d been fun in the sack, that’s the least she could do. It doesn’t mean anything, she’ll tell you this even if she’s on her deathbed. And if by some miracle that it does, she contemplates with a note of skepticism as she pulls the loose hair back into a tight ponytail, it’s still strictly platonic. That’s it. End of fucking story.

But now, Iris sits, staring dumbly at the screen, scrolling over pictures, new and old, of them together as she stops periodically on one in particular labeled ‘TBT w/ my favorite girl’ and it’s a photo of the them sitting on the porch sharing an ice cream cone. It couldn’t have been taking that long ago as it's a picture of Barry, her Barry with the easy smile staring back at her from the frozen, captured moment.  

She'd long ago recognized her from the family photo taken on Thanksgiving, ‘from our family to yours’ yeah right.

Her name is Patrice. Patty, her handle reads, and when she spots a photo of her and Barry posing outside the gates of Disney World, Iris snaps her laptop shut.

Disney World, where fucking dreams come true.

It was like an all new Barry loves Patty universe was being revealed the more she pulled back the curtain through a series of pictures, grainy videos and inside jokes posted on their Facebook walls.

There’s an inkling of anger there, lying just under her skin but Iris shakes her head, bringing herself out of that state of mind. Don’t even go there. If she’s going to be upset, it was going to be on Patrice’s behalf.

Barry was lying to her.

He was lying to the both of them.

Iris West was not a homewrecker. At least she never intended to be.

He was going to have to tell her, Iris made up her mind, Barry was going to tell Patrice the truth come hell or high-water and if he didn’t Iris would make sure that the other woman found out; even if she had to hear it from her.

“They’re all the same.” She’d quietly said to herself then. Barry was supposed to be different. Good. He was supposed to be…

The complete opposite of Scott… So when she sees him just outside of Jitters on the day they return from break, she corners him on the sidewalk, backing him into the side of the building.

“I-Iris.” He has the gall to sound flustered when he sees her coming his way, and Iris wants to slap the shy grin right off of his face.

“What kind of girl do you think I am?”

“Iris, I-”

“No Barry, did you think you could just use me to get your rocks off while your girlfriend is away. Why didn't you tell me you have a girlfriend,” Iris steamrolls from one question to another.  “I’m not that kind of girl.”

“I know that Iris. I know-”

But she refuses to let him speak. “Did you think any of this would’ve happened had I known,” she watches him open his mouth to reply but she cuts him off again, tagging his arm. “You know what, don't answer that because of course not Barry, God,” all the wind rushes from her system as she takes a step back to find his gaze, unwavering into her own, starring back innocently and, “what the fuck Barry!”

“Just let me explain, okay. I can explain everything.”

“Explain what, exactly?” About how he used her, knowing that he was committed to someone else or maybe how he mistook her for a fool, hoping that she wouldn’t find out she was the other woman all along. “What could you possibly have to say to me right now Barry?”

“I’m not dating Patty. She’s not my girlfriend. She’s just a friend.” He tugs anxiously at his ear, sliding his hand down to his neck. “She kissed me. I didn’t kiss her. I swear.”

Iris crosses her arms, and takes another step back to really look at him. She starts from the top where he’s pinching the back of his neck, and down to his feet where his stance shifts every few seconds. Barry is a body full of energy, unleashing in sporadic spurts as his foot starts to tap in place and his fingers wring together.

“And- and that I’m not interested in her like that. The only girl I’m remotely,” Barry pauses then to shake his head frantically and sighs, the heel of his hand brushes over his eyes and he can’t look at her. “What I’m trying to say is that - is that, nothing happened. I mean there was a kiss - you saw, but she kissed me. I didn't- I don't-”

His hands fall to his side, and he peeks up from under those long lashes with nervous eyes and Iris swears he has the most authentic puppy dog face she’s ever seen. Like, what the hell at God.

“If you’re lying to me Barry-,”

“I’m not. I swear,” he unearths his phone from his pocket. “I can call Patty right now. We - we talked about it and she’s kind of embarrassed about the whole thing,” he sucks in his lower lip and bites down on it, like he’s thinking better of the situation and stuffs the phone back into his pocket. “Actually maybe,” he coughs, “not that I don’t want to, like I’m not hiding anything. It’s just that shoving it in her face would be kind of be a dick move.”

It would, as much as she hates to admit it. She doesn't say anything of this to him of course and starts in the direction of campus, leaving Barry to race after her. It doesn't take him long to catch up. “Iris, Iris-” he manages to reach her elbow and jump in front of her. “You’re upset? I told you nothing happened.”

“It doesn't matter.” Oh but it does. It really does.

She has no right to be mad, but she can't ignore the feelings spiraling in her stomach when she thinks about the two of them either. It doesn’t feel right, seeing them but it feels even worse knowing that she’s the one standing in the way. Its obvious Patrice wants something more with Barry, and why wouldn’t she? He was a great guy and one day he was going to wake up and realize he belonged with this other girl.

How could she stand in the way of that?  

“Iris?”

“Just leave me alone, Barry.”

“No, no. I’m not going to do that. Not until you believe nothing happened.” In the short time they’ve known each other, he’s not once said no. It’s a revelation that she tucks away for later. “I need you to know that I would never betray you like that.” He bravely reaches for hand, and it envelops her much smaller one in his palm. “I know we’re not a thing but you can trust me.”

“Can I Barry?” She’s heard it all before. Believed it too and it turns out they were all more or less the same. They might have had new faces, new traits but at the end of the day, Barry was just like everyone else. “What makes you any different?”

When he goes silent, she pulls her hand away. It’s a good as time as anyway to leave him in her past, for good this time.

“Iris. Iris,” Barry runs to catch up to her and she rolls her eyes cocking her head to the side when he stands in her path again. “I’m running late for class.”

“Now, just wait a minute.” He stands to his full height, and Iris has to look up. “Can’t you just hear me out? Just give me a chance.”

“And why should I?”

“Because. I’m worth it. I am. You don’t have to believe me, but I am. And I’ll prove it to you. Whatever you want. I’ll do it. Name it, Iris. What do I have to do?” They stand in the crowded walkway on the outskirts of campus and Iris is trying to decide if he’s serious or not.

“Anything I want?”

“Whatever it is, Iris. I’ll do it. I promise.”

**…**

“I’m afraid to ask, but who pissed in your cheerios?”

Iris looks up from the paper she’s writing to find Linda standing beside her, coffee cup in one hand and her purse clutched in the other. A neat brow is skewed with concern as she sits down beside her.

“What are you doing here?”

“Can’t one friend visit another? I haven't seen you in a week and besides a text - that you didn’t respond to by the way - I wanted to stop by to see how you were doing.” She starts, depositing her purse in the corner of the couch. “And you're avoiding the question.”

“Who let you in here?”

“It’s a house not Area 51.”

Iris rolls her brown eyes, turning back to her computer. After two hours, one full episode of her favorite series and a snack break, Iris only has her name, the header and the title of her paper.

Could her disgruntlement be evident? Maybe. So what, sue her.

“I’m sorry Linda,” she sighs, falling into the cushion of the armrest. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“Is it about that cute boy I’ve seen you hanging around with, Barry. Is that his name?”

“Barry?” Iris sits up. Her laptop slides to the wayside as she turns to face Linda, her legs fold under her. “What does Barry have to do with anything?” Better question: how does Linda know about Barry? She’d been so careful.

“I’m not blind.” Linda takes a sip of her coffee, rolling her eyes in the same fashion Iris had done before. “Or deaf, or you know, stupid.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Lesson number one in Iris Ann West: 101, is that whenever you avoid a subject, you’re either lying about something or nervous. And since we both know you’ve been lying; which is it Iris - does this Barry guy make you nervous or are you nervous because you’ve been lying about him for so long?” she has that dumb smile on her face that says Iris has been caught in the middle of her own pile of dog shit.

Iris is wide eyed, momentarily stunned into silence and Linda knows she has her exactly where she wants her. “So tell me about him.”

“I,” would exactly was she going to say? “We’re not a thing.” Yeah, that’s a good start. “He’s just,” really good in bed and when things are getting a bit too stressful for me I like to take a ride on his joy stick, “a distraction. We’re having fun.” She hurriedly corrects, “it’s nothing serious.”

“Mhmm.” Iris watches as Linda analyzes the new information she’s been handed, and it only takes a minute before she has something to say. “Do you like him?”

 Yes. “No, not like that.”

“Mhmm.” Linda nods, sipping away at her coffee. “And how long has this been going on?”

For a while now. “Not that long,” Iris shrugs. “A couple of months give or take.”

“So why have you been keeping him a secret, if it’s not a big deal?”

And what’s with all the questions Anita Van Buren? Iris is starting to feel like she’s on trial.

“Because I knew you would get this way.” Iris shoots back, making a sweeping motion with her hand that gestures over Linda’s entire form. “I knew that you would think more into this then you would have to, and I knew I’d get the third degree.”

“Someone sounds oddly defensive.”

“Well I’m not … being offended in anyway shape or form - I’m just, we’re just having fun.”

“Does he know that?”

Iris snaps her mouth shut. Yes. The answer should come automatically, without hesitation but she’s given pause. She’s not deaf, dumb or blind as Linda put it.

She notices the way he looks at her. How he holds her just a little bit tighter, a little bit longer than necessary. The way he looks at her when he thinks she’s not paying attention.

But he had to know.

Didn’t he?

She knows what she wants now.

**…**

“So you want me to date… Patty?”

She can hear the confusion clear in his voice. It’s resounding and matches the twist of his brow and the curve of his top lip perfectly. He’s stills in motion, the fork paused halfway to his mouth as he tries to process what she’d just said.

She’s invited him out to lunch in the student cafeteria. Very crowded. Very public just in case he causes a scene. He doesn’t look like the type, but then again you never know. “But you just - I mean the other day,” he stumbles trying to collect his thoughts into one accurate sentence. He places the fork back on his plate and sits back in the booth. Iris watches him, his hands first push out over the edge of the table following up to his shoulders that tense around his neck. “When I said anything Iris, I didn’t mean-”

“Look, I just think we should call it quits before things get too complicated. I believe you about Patty, I do and there are no hard feelings between us, I just think this would be for the best. I want you to be happy. I’m setting you free. You and this Patty girl look like you make sense, you actually seem perfect for each other and it’s not fair of me to make you stay.” She pauses, scrutinizing him with her eyes, “I’m not upset Barry, really. I just like to know that the person I’m involved with is only sleeping with me.”

“I am. Or I was - Iris, I’m confused.”

“Barry,” she reaches for his hand but thinks better of it at the last second and pulls back to fold them in her lap. “This will be for the best.” She wants to add trust me at the end, but how could she when she was breaking his heart. “So what is this like, are we - are breaking up? Like I just,” she watches his eyes scan her face before looking away to the rest of the lunch room. Anywhere but at her.

“We can be friends Barry.”

“I thought that’s what we were,” he turns back to her, “or at least trying to be, but I get the feeling you’re just trying to push me away.”

“I’m not.”

“You want me to date Patty.” He snaps.

“You can date anyone. I just used her as an example. I just don't want you to think-”

“Think what?”

“Think that this” she motions between the two of them, her voice growing harsher as her own emotions start to get the best of her. “Is going somewhere because it’s not, Barry.” His name rings like finality. Like an ending. “It won't, and it never will.”

Even through the busy noise of the cafeteria the little bubble they’ve created in the booth comes to a screeching halt. There’s no wiggle room around her words, around the lost look in his eyes, and Iris knows. She knows that this - whatever it is they had - is over. “Okay,” his voice is low, void of emotion, lacking the hope it held there before. She watches as he ducks his head, and starts eating again.

And just okay.

“Okay?” Even she can hear the disbelief.

“Okay,” Barry says again and brings the fork to his lips.

He finish off his plate. Hers’ lay forgotten. The silence is not the comfortable kind she’s grown accustomed to but it has an overlaying of awkwardness that she wishes would disappear. When he drops his fork beside the plate, he looks up at her for the first time in what’s felt like ages. His eyes are dark, rid of any light she’s witnessed there before and something inside of her cracks at the realization that this was the last time they’d be here. Together. Like this.

He makes to grab his backpack, and time is running out. When he stands up and offers her a withering smile, time slows down offering her that one final chance to make things right. To get him to stay.

_This is it. Say something._

But she doesn’t. She lets him go like a passing memory.

**…**

The semester is coming to an end. Finals, papers, projects and work are all the things she consumes herself with. It helps her blank out unwanted parts in the depths of her mind. It’s safe. It’s easy.

But when Linda shows up as she’s finalizing a draft for the paper she’s discombobulated to say the least.

“Hey,” Linda smiles, placing her own books on the desk. “Where have you’ve been lately, I feel like I keep missing you.”

She probably has. Iris can’t find it in herself to sit still for too long these days. She even goes as far to ask Mason for more drafts to edit. And everyone knows (except for Mason of course) how she really feels about him. “I’ve been around.”

“Are you going to the rink tonight? It’ll give us a chance to catch up.”

Every year her sorority partners with their brother fraternity to host a charity event at the ice rink in the downtown lot. It was her favorite as all of the proceeds went to buy gifts or food for struggling families in the area - but this year she just didn't have the energy. Not after the pile of work she had stacked on her desk at home, in her office and the extra shift at work she picked up.

“Please say yes.” Linda pouts, batting her lashes. “Please. I really want to go but who wants to skate alone?”

“I’m pretty sure you can find a date.”

 "Who wants to deal with one of those when I can hang out with my best friend?”

Iris snorts, turning back to her reading. “Maybe not this time, Linda, my schedule is stocked.”

“But it’s your event, how are you not going to show up?”

“Because it was planned at the beginning of the year when things are a lot less hectic.” She pays no never mind to Linda who starts to poke out her lip. “Don’t worry, Kendra will be there.” Kendra is Iris’ sorority sister, and she and Linda get along well enough that they can coexist without her presence.

“Yeah and every guy there will be hounding for her attention.” Linda slumps into the free chair, rolling her eyes. “You know how much she loves it and I really don’t feel like playing third string.” She leans over, batting her lashes faster, and she’s really going for it. “Please, please, please just think about it, I really want to go. Pretty please.”

Iris inhales, sucking in a frustrated groan because she knows - Linda knows, possibly the entire damn campus knows - she’s going to cave. “Fine.”

Linda squeals, clapping her hands before she squeezes Iris in a hug. “I’ll see you later, okay?” She grabs her things, yelling over her shoulder (which invoke a chorus of shhhs - ‘no you shhhh’), “can’t wait best friend.”

The rest of the day seems to fly by, hours seemingly turning into minutes and before she knows it, Iris is dressed in her winter coat, matching hat and gloves, standing at the opening gate downtown. Her sorority sisters filter around in greeting people of all ages and she works her way through the crowd, posing for a few photos to take for the sorority website,  the school paper and even the city paper - with a few to add to her own personal collection.

She drifts from job to job going wherever she is needed before she finally ends up at the ticket booth. And she sees him, parting through the crowd with his friend Cisco on his right and a girl who is unfamiliar to Iris walking to his left. She hasn’t seen him since the incident in the cafeteria, and that was just over a month ago. So when his small group makes it to the table, all happy smiles bundled underneath layers of hats and scarfs, she’s momentarily frozen to her spot.

“Barry... hi.”

He doesn't say anything back, offering her a quick wave before he hands over a five dollar bill, the price of admission and waits for his ticket stub that will get him free skates. His friends look on, silently, waiting for her to make a move. It’s not until he excuses himself, asking the girl to grab his ticket stub is she knocked back into reality as she is forced to watch him walk away.

“Barry,” the girl calls after him. She tells Cisco to get the tickets before she rushes after him.

“You’re Iris, right?”

Iris sucks in her bottom lip, nodding. “Cisco?”

“The one and only.”

“It’s nice to officially meet you.” Or at least she thinks so.

“Samsies. So,” his gaze travels over to the path that leads to Barry walking side by side the girl Iris doesn’t know, when Cisco catches her attention again. “You and Barry, huh?”

“Me and Barry what?”

“You’re going out aren't you? I mean,” he shrugs his shoulder turning back to his friends. “He’s upset about something right now, he won't tell me, but I know his school works been a bitch lately, so don't worry - whatever it is, he’ll get over it.” He smiles up at her, big and bright, “you seem to make him really happy - so just, I don't know,” he twist his lips and shrugs once more. “Give him some time. The school year is almost over so he should stop being weird around that same time - or at least not as weird.” He laughs, slapping a ten down on the table and Iris doesn't know what to say.

“Unless of course,” he starts again, “I just shot myself in the foot with my big mouth.” He rolls his eyes. “Dude, if that’s the case - pay no attention to me.” He thanks her for the tickets and jogs off to join Barry and the girl with mousy brown hair and big eyes. She watches as he tells them a joke that gets Barry to smile into the back of his hand and something tugs inside of her.

“You alright, West,” Roger, her sorority's brother fraternity ask from his side of the booth.

“I’m fine.” Or at least she thought she was. She’s on autopilot as the rest of the night draws on, hearing Cisco’s words like a broken record, ‘you make him happy’ just constantly on a loop that she doesn’t even notice Roger switching out with one of his brothers or Linda walking up to stand in front of her.

“You ready to do this thing or what?”

Iris lifts her head, “huh?”

“I said are you ready? You’ve been up here for hours, I’m pretty sure your ‘sisters’ could survive if you came to skate with me for a while.”

Linda has her out of her seat, pulling her down the hill and on the ice in no time. She can’t recall how many times they’ve lapped the thing but Linda is calling for a break after a while and before long, Iris finds herself sitting in the bleachers sipping hot cocoa with Linda at her side. She watches the rink from her high vantage point, noting how it’s filled with students from school and small children from the neighboring community with their parents. Tonight had been a success yet it doesn't necessarily feel like one.

“So I saw your friend, Barry tonight.” Linda would bring him up.

“Yeah, I saw him too,” Iris is trying for nonchalant, like seeing him is no big deal. Because whatever, she’s seen him a number of times before. Why would seeing him, tonight of all nights be any different?

“Are you going to go out there and ask him for a lap around the rink or do I have to do it for you?”

“Trying to get rid of me already, I see.” She sips at the cup, relishing in the warm treat inside, trying to keep herself from giggling as Linda argues that is not the case.

“I just thought maybe you’d want to. He looks like a decent skater, could be fun.” Iris follows to where Linda is pointing to on the ice. And there just in the far corner, he’s skating with his back turned, talking to the friends he’d come with. And how is it that the boy can’t walk in a proper straight line but he looks graceful on the ice all the while talking a mile a minute, looking like he doesn't have a care in the world.

She misses him.

She’s not stubborn enough to admit that.

She misses the conversation. His laugh. The way he looked at things differently and just the feeling of how easy it was to be with him.

“No, I’m good.” She finally says, drinking the last of her hot chocolate in one go. The night was just perfect, it wasn’t too cold to fret the nice, even ice. She has her skates and she has her Linda. What else could she possibly need? “Besides, I’m having an awesome time with you, why would I need anyone else.”

“Oh,” Linda drawls. “You flatter me,” her tone drifts into an obnoxious southern accent that makes Iris roll her eyes. And if she could just focus on that, focus on the good she currently had going on in her life, then maybe she could get passed all the unwarranted possibilities. She tells herself this as she watches Barry tilt his head back in laughter.

**…**

Iris takes a deep breath. “Be mature,” she tells herself. “You wanted this, so suck it up West.”

It was her decision after all, so she can’t be mad. Should, she corrects herself because, yes, should, is a better term, for obvious reasons. Because.

Because.

She. Should. Not. Care. About. Barry. Allen.

A small, nagging, frustrating part of her that won't go away no matter how much Iris’s iron will wants it to - hopes that he wouldn’t take her advice. That he would fight for her - for them, really.

That he would wait.

She knows, God does she know, how terrible that makes her sound. And she wishes that she didn’t think that way. She wishes that she could be cool about it all, but that is just so not her.

What she can do is be the bigger person - even it does feel like she’s being doused in fire. She could keep her mouth shut and be happy for him. For them.

She closes her eyes, and double taps the picture of Patty and Barry together, kissing under the mistletoe. ‘Merry Christmas from us’ the post underneath reads, and it’s so unoriginal, so cliché. “Be the bigger person,” she reminds herself again, because she can see her pettiness rearing its ugly head like an unwanted pimple that no matter how much you try to leave it alone and let it run its course, you still pick at it until it pops and leaves a scar. Because, matching Santa hats? Really? _Really._ And who the hell wears that much red lipstick, like, hadn't she ever heard the term less is more?

“Iris, baby,” her dad, Joe, is pressed against the frame of the door to the guest bedroom, looking in on her and the disdain that must be etched into her features causes one of his thick brows to lift. “You okay?”

“Fine.” One hundred and ten percent _fine_. “I’m fine, daddy. What’s up?”

His broad shoulders lift in a shrug, and he looks at his daughter. “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah,” he stands up from his perch on the wooden frame, starting to walk into the room he takes the empty space beside her. “You said that already. But,” he pokes the dent in between her brows, chuckling as she tries to move away, “have you forgotten I know you like I know the back of my hand baby girl. So come on, tell me what’s wrong. Let me fix it for you.”

If only he could. Gone are the days Iris thought her dad could do anything? When he was a superhero in her eyes. Now, he was just a man. A great man, but he couldn’t fix her problems, not all of them anyway, especially not the ones she inflicted herself.

Iris would have to suck it up, and figure it out on her own.

She would have to sort out these feelings she was having all by herself, dissolve them really, because he was moving on. Just like she told him to. Like she had wanted him to, needed him to.

It’s not that easy.

“Dad, when did you - I mean, you and mom?”

Both brows are a few inches from shooting clear off from his forehead. “Are you, are you saying-”

She can’t answer that. She doesn’t know - it’s not impossible though, is it?

I mean it could have happened during all those times they stayed awake in the dead of night talking. In the chaste kisses they shared when they thought no one was watching. In the way he cradled her hands in his much larger ones until she fell comfortably asleep at his side.

His touch was just supposed to help her forget, that was all she needed but something else had happened over time. Barry had somehow wormed his way into her subconscious and made her feel something for him.

But that was crazy right, _right._ That’s not how rebounds work.

She was doing this all wrong. ‘No one ever said you were a relationship expert West’ her brain sought to remind her.

“I don’t know. I just feel like I’ve lost out.” When he doesn’t answer right away, she powers her phone on and shows him the picture of Barry. “I talked myself and him out of… us, and now…”

“Now you wish you would’ve taken a chance.”

“Something like that.”

“Mhmm,” Joe nods, staring at the picture of the boy who’s polarized his daughter's attention. “He’s with someone.”

“Yeah,” her voice goes small. “Only because I told him to.”

“And why would a smart girl like you do something like that?”

Because I don’t deserve him. Because I’m not ready for him the way he needs me to be but I selfishly don’t want him with anyone else either. “Because I’m an idiot.”

Joe laughs this time, a hearty one that shakes his whole body and it’s annoyingly infectious. “Dad,” Iris whines, tagging his shoulder and he settles down some.

“I’m sorry, Iris,” he kisses her forehead. “But I just won't accept that. You’re one of the smartest people I know and putting you and idiot in the same sentence is reason enough to laugh.”

“Then what do you call a person that let’s Barry Allen just waltz right out of their life for no good reason?”

“Scared.” Joe states it, like it’s a matter of fact from fiction. “You sound scared baby girl.” When she chooses to stare at the ugly pattern of her aunt’s quilt, she realizes there might be some truth to said statement. “But,” he loops an arm over her shoulder to tuck her into his side, “I’ve got some good news for you.” And her eyes peer up, waiting. “When the universe wants to make something happen, even if it is putting two people together, it has a way of figuring those things out.”

“That’s what you’re going with?”

Joe chuckles again, and it's booming just like the rest of his personality - never subtle this guy. “Trust me baby girl. Your old man knows what he’s talking about. If fate or whatever greater being that’s out there wants you to be with this guy then it’ll happen. As far as being in love. Well,” he scratches at his goatee, “I can’t really say, it’s different for everyone.”

“When did you?”

“Fall in love with your mother?”

Iris snuggles in further to his hold, watching as a smile slowly starts to form until it reached his dark eyes. “One night,” he starts, shaking his head at the memory of Francine. “I came home, and I was just getting off of duty, we had just moved in together because well, it seemed like the rational step and it was the 80s ya’ know, everyone was doing it.” He jokes, and laughter spreads through the room easily.

“And I just remember being bone tired, all I wanted the moment I stepped through that door was to fall in my bed and clock out until the next morning. I didn’t want to eat, I didn’t want to talk. Just sleep.” He scratched the bridge of his nose, drifting off almost as if he was back in that time, sharing that moment with her late mother.

“When I open the door, and there she is at three in the morning surrounded by a pile of boxes that still need to be unpacked and she looks up at me, and smiles.” Joe pauses. “She gets up and welcomes me home, our home. She must know that I’m tired because she tries to get me to go to bed, and it's what I wanted. I told myself Joe get some rest but, just looking at her that night… it was like sleep became the farthest thing from my mind.” He looked down at Iris.

“I stayed up with your mom for another four hours before I passed out on the couch, all because I just wanted to look at her, be close to her. She felt like - like-”

“Home.”

“Exactly.” And the room falls into silence, giving Iris time to wrap her mind around the notion that she could possibly – maybe, actually - “Does this Barry guy make you feel that way? Does he feel like home?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn Iris...
> 
> Group hug for all the love this story has been given.


	5. V.

“You could at least act like you're interested.”

Over the noise of lasers blasting through the speakers placed periodically in the living room, Cisco can just make out the agitated grunt of Barry before he drops the controller to his lap. The game pauses, halting the fight against alien life forms and the boys find themselves sitting in rare case of silence.

Finally, Barry kicks his feet up on the coffee table and drops his head back.

“I’m trying.”

“We both know you could try harder.”

For two hours, that’s how long they’ve been stuck on the same level and needless to say the tension building within Barry was transferring over to Cisco. Which is something to be said given this was supposed to be an easy going Sunday before their spring semester started the next day.

“Whatever.”

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on or is pissy your new default mood?”

“I’m not acting pissy.”

“Oh,” Cisco makes a show out of shaking his head. “I beg to differ. Ever since you mysteriously started dating Patty you’ve been in a funky ass mood Barry Allen, and frankly, I’m tired of it.”

When Barry doesn’t immediately respond, Cisco’s figures he’s hit the nail on its’ head. He was the first of many to say the revelation of Patty and Barry came as one hell of a surprise because for as long as anyone could remember Barry preached, repeatedly, that Patty was like a sister to him.

Something was up.

Cisco would stake his collection of ironically themed t-shirts on it. And he was one phone call away from getting to the bottom of it when Caitlin begged him to let it go, and that ‘Barry would tell us when he’s ready’.

Well, waiting time is over.

It’s been over since the moment they rode back to campus in a silent car.

“This about that Iris girl?”

The tick in Barry’s jaw gives him away. It always does.

“Why would it be about… her?”

The fact that he can’t even say her name proves Cisco’s point even more. He raises a brow, just slightly, encouraging Barry to explain but when he doesn’t Cisco is forced to ask;

“Do you want me to come to my own conclusions, here, because I’m telling you the thoughts I have up here,” he gestures at his temple to create the visual needed to make his point, “are running kinda’ rapid. I’m thinking she blackmailed you. What does she have on you Barry, huh, what does Patty have on you? Because for the life of me, I’m trying to understand. I’m trying to figure out how you can go from Iris West. Iris fricking West to Patty Spivot.”

“Patty’s nice.”

Yeah, sure. In a platonic friend zone way.

“Really, that’s the best you’ve got? She’s nice.”

“We’ve known each other all our lives.”

“So what, we’ve known Hartley Rathaway for just as long and need I remind you how much we loathe him entirely.”

“He’s your mortal enemy, Cisco, not mine. Besides, Patty and I make sense,” Barry shrugs and sits to his full height in the attempt to sound more confident in his decision, “In the end, people like us are bound to be together.”

“Bull shit, says who?”

Barry snorts. It’s the first time he’s shown any hint of emotion since winter vacation has ended. And Cisco thinks that maybe this is a start in the right direction even if it is devoid of any happiness.

Because this look he’s wearing now is scathing and it makes Barry’s features darken as the name passes his lips.

“Iris.”

And if feels like the air in the room has been sucked out completely. Cisco gets it now or at least he’s close to piecing the puzzle together.

For some time now, Cisco has watched his friend. He’s paid attention to Barry and how he goes about his day, noticing how he’s been lighter, almost weightless after he’s spent a night with Iris. Cisco doesn’t claim to understand the specifics of their relationship as they don’t flaunt it but a person would have to be blind not to notice the lingering looks. The hushed conversations or the giddy look Barry has a hard time controlling whenever she’s mentioned.

The stack of news articles written by Iris that Barry suddenly has an interest in collecting doesn’t go unnoticed either or the fact that Cisco’s room is one door down from Barry’s. He’s heard his fair share of things to invest in pretty good set of headphones for the nights she sneaks over.

“But that doesn’t make any-”

“Sense? Tell me about it.”

The white noise from the paused television echoes off the open space of their living room and Barry would give anything to sink away from this conversation. From Cisco’s calculating glare and this reality in general.

Because Patty is great, really, she is. Barry assumes in another life, one of which he’d never crossed paths with Iris, that Patty could be his happily ever after because to some degree they do kind of, _sorta,_ make sense. I mean she’s smart. They can literally hold a conversation for hours, any day of any given week.

They share the same interest and the girl is drop dead gorgeous. If she weren’t so determined to join the police academy then she would definitely have a chance as America’s next top model.

They even shared the same lame sense of humor.

All the signs were literally written on the wall.

But, he sulks, she’s not Iris.

That’s it. Her one single flaw that outweighs everything else. She doesn’t speak the way Iris speaks, all fast and rousing when she grows excited. Her walk was too light - a vast contrast to the purposeful strides Iris took wherever she went and most importantly, Patty doesn't stir the current of electricity through his veins that Iris evoked whenever she so much as looked at him.

He’s back in the center of Time Square on New Year's Eve again, the ball has just dropped and Barry is hyper aware of each movement Patty takes: starting from the lean she takes to her tip toes, the feel of her gloved hands as she clutches his shoulders to press her lips to his. Right then and there, Barry realizes what a cluster fuck of a mistake he’s made.

Patty deserves to be happy. It’s the only thing that gets him through it. It’s the one thing that keeps him doced and focused as he tries to learn his childhood friend in an all-new romantic way. She’s worth that.

Someone should be.

If he gives it time, Barry deems that maybe he could grow to be the person she deserves. Over time, he could learn to recuperate her feelings.

The thought alone worries Barry gravely, and he knows without a shadow of a doubt that it makes him no better. Hell, it makes him worse.

At least Iris never lied. She was always upfront about her intentions. It was Barry who made the mistake of falling for her.

He was such a fucking asshole.

“You have to tell Patty.”

“No,” Barry utters. He can’t. Not yet.

He’s not sure if Cisco understands the gravity of the situation but it’s too serious. He can’t just go in guns a blazing ready and willing to break someone’s heart just because he’s not man enough to get over his own problems. No, he can’t and he won’t be responsible for ruining years of friendship.

“You have too or else you’re going to wake up ten years from now with a life you don’t want, married to the wrong person.”

“Staying with Patty won’t be so bad.”

“Why are you lying to yourself?”

It’s rare to see Cisco get riled up but as Barry watches him stand to cut a path in front of the TV, he knows he’s hit a nerve.

“Are you really just going to settle? Do you think that’s fair and don’t even include yourself in this because I’m talking about Patty. Do you honestly think that’s fair to Patty, Barry?

Because if you do, then you’re not the person I thought you were because that person is a selfish ass prick and that’s not you Barry Allen.”

Barry wrings his hands together. He wrings them so tight that he cracks a few knuckles. “What if she’s right, though? Iris, I mean. What if she’s right and I’m just hung up on this idea instead of focusing on the person right for me. What if Patty and I are supposed to be together?”

It hurts like a bitch to say that even more so when he comes to the realization over Christmas break but it’s enough for him to pull Patty aside and suggest that they give it a shot.

“Do you believe that?”

No. He doesn’t, not even for a second. Not even if he wanted to. His silence speaks volumes to Cisco.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“But what if-”

“But nothing Barry.” Cisco locks his hands behind his neck as he continues to pace. “I think you’re afraid of being alone.”

“Who isn’t?”

Cisco sighs, dropping his hands to his side. He moves around the table and takes a seat on the coffee table. Caitlin would have a fit if she saw them mistreating the furniture like this but he’ll worry about that later.

“Hey, dude, listen. I know it’s scary as shit but come on we’re young.” He smiles at the barrel end and just like that, lighthearted Cisco is back. “We’ve got the rest of our lives to be tied down but for now, we’re in our last year at Central U. We’re this close to getting those internships at S.T.A.R. labs and, dude, like the world, is our oyster and all that good crap.”

He swats Barry’s knee, getting a small chuckle out of the man in return. Cisco doesn’t care how small, he’ll take any victory he can get at this point. “Just take a step back from everything else, yeah, and like, focus on what truly important, ya’know.”

Sounds easier said than done.

“This fucking sucks.”

Cisco cracks and a smile breaks through the hard curve lining his mouth until it’s a low chuckle of his own. “Yeah, yeah. I guess it does.”

Barry’s situation still remains a cluster of ‘what the fuck are you doing’ but at least he’s not preserving everything on his own anymore.

“You have to break up with Patty.”

“I know.”

“You have to do it soon.”

“I know.”

“And you have to find a way to get over Iris.”

Getting over Iris? That is the next logical step. It doesn’t make it any less sore, though.

“I know that too.”

**...**

“Mr. Allen.” 

Barry halts in his attempt to stuff his laptop in the computer case at the call of his name. Around the lecture hall, students are rushing over one another to get out there but through the lines of young adults he can just make out a head full of white hair coming up the stairs.

“Professor Stein, hi, great class today.”

Stein simply nods, motioning for Barry to continue gathering his things as he goes on to say, “Yes, well I’m glad someone thinks so.” An air of amusement passes between the two as Barry finishes up, Stein motions to the row of seats.

“I want to start off by saying how impressed I am with you. When Dr. McGhee told me I was gaining one of the brightest young minds to study the law of Physics, well I’m sure you could understand I had reservations.”

Barry expects as such. Many times over people have claimed to be the next big thing in any field but until they’ve been able to prove themselves, it was all just word of mouth. Of course, Barry never claimed to be as such. Don’t get him wrong, he excels at the subject but it was not just his doing. It’s the late nights he spent awake memorizing passages word for word. It was listening to lectures spoken by the greatest minds in the field today. It was the tutelage of Christina McGhee and her willingness to help him concentrate and refocus his theories until they made sense. It was bouncing those same ideas and theories off of Caitlin and Cisco. So no, he can’t accept all the praise nor would her ever, not when he had a network of people to thank for his success.

“I’ve got to say you, Mr. Allen, have lived up to your name.”

“Professor, thank you but your work is groundbreaking. I mean your whole basis for Firestorm could quite literally change the world as we know it.”

Martin chuckles more to himself than to appease Barry, muttering something along the lines of, “flattery will get you everywhere Mr. Allen,” before he pops the lock on his briefcase and pulls out a manila folder with ‘Allen’ written on the tab.

“I’m sure you’re aware of the intern position with S.T.A.R. labs, yes?”

It was all he and Cisco have been talking about for the last three years. They’ve only just become eligible during their final year but over the span of those three years both Barry and Cisco have been working diligently to build credibility within their departments.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Stein flips the folder open and thumbs through the sheets he has tucked there until he stops, removes a slip of paper and hands it over. “This is a hard copy. I will email one to your inbox later on this evening, Mr. Allen, but just know I expect great things from you, yes?”

“I don’t, I - Professor Stein… I don’t-”

Stein much to his dismay laughs again. It’s a contrast for Barry to witness as he, and he’s sure most of his classmates, have grown used to the uptight, no-nonsense astute professor. Some who have even grown to fear him simply by word of mouth.

“A simple thank you will suffice Mr. Allen.”

“Thank you.”

Barry’s mouth is still gaping open as his eyes scan over the letter of recommendation; phrases like _‘instrumental to not only the success of S.T.A.R. labs but to the world of Physics’_ stand out and Barry feels like he’s about to faint right out of his chair.

“You have an exceptional mind, Mr. Allen. I hope that you will use it to better this world as I, and I am sure many of my colleagues both here and beyond, look forward to witnessing what you can achieve.”

Martin closes his briefcase and stands. He offers one last parting smile before he starts down the staircase to a now empty lecture hall. “Good day Mr. Allen.”

“A recommendation from Dr. Martin Stein,” Barry mumbles to himself, eyes focusing on the wet ink of Stein's signature. “Holy shit.”

The curse words sound off the acoustics of the room, and Barry doesn’t give a damn who hears because holy friggin’ shit.

A recommendation from Stein could mean he was one step closer to living out his dream of working at S.T.A.R. labs. And, okay, it wasn’t a paid internship - he was probably going to have to pick up a part-time job to keep his rent afloat but he was this close to walking the same halls as Harrison Wells.

The one and only time he managed to visit the S.T.A.R. labs facility, Harrison was states away on business but now, Barry could have the chance to meet his hero in person. He could potentially talk to him.

He’s practically bouncing on the balls of his feet as he makes his way from the building, across campus and into the bookstore.

He’s positive this day couldn’t get better.

“Omph, I’m sorry, I-”

And he’s right.

It’s getting worse.

“Barry.”

His tongue feels twice its’ normal size. It feels like it’s blocking his airway. And even though he’s on the verge of what feels like a panic attack he still manages to mumble her name.

“Iris.”

He contemplates forgetting the book he’ll need for Bio-Chem to hightail it because suddenly this huge ass Barnes & Noble is too cramped and he’s still not sure if he can breathe properly.

“How’ve you been?”

Miserable. Tired. Stressed. Between trying to figure out his Patty situation and trying to focus on school, he’s been a mess. The only upside he had was the summer program with S.T.A.R. labs but that high was now ruined.

But he doesn’t tell her that.

Instead he clutches the book tighter in his grip, ducks his head as he moves to stand out of her reach and utters that he’s fine. He forgoes the polite thing to do and asking her the same. No, he wants to make this fast, like ripping off a band-aid.

“That’s great.”

The corners of his lips purse up into a tight smile that doesn't exactly reach his eyes, and he gives a single nod before moving to stand at the end of the checkout line.

The one single checkout line during a very busy time at the beginning of the semester. Like what even is real life? Because of course, she’s here getting materials she’ll need for her courses and of course, she’s the person in line behind him.

“And you look great, that’s great.” He can hear her mumbling to his back and what did she expect to find? A shell of his former self.

God forbid he can crawl out of bed, he thinks irritably. That’s the anger talking, he has to remind himself to stow it away. To take the high road.

So he sucks it up and goes against his better judgment to look over his shoulder. “You too.” His voice is a shaky mess. It’s embarrassing to know that Iris can probably tell but he goes against the grain, swallowing his resolve to offer her a kinder more polite smile.

It’s not genuine but it’s a start. 

It’s been almost two and a half months since he’s since her that night at the ice rink but she’s still just as beautiful as ever. Maybe even more and that’s no surprise. Barry can’t remember a time she’s looked anything less.

It stings though because she looks like she’s doing just fine without him.

Barry swallows hard at the recognition and faces forward. He feels the touch of her hand at his elbow and through the layers of his sweater and coat he can still feel the heat of her presence.

“Barry?”

The way she whispers his name gives her away and Barry can tell that she knows that he’s not okay. That he misses her. That he feels like shit most days. 

“Really, Iris. I’m okay, couldn’t be better.”

He's reached the clerk to pay for his book with a swipe of his card, waiting for them to be bagged when she ask him to wait for her.

Against his will, his feet stay glued to the aluminum tile until she’s ready to go. He’s never felt so betrayed by his own anatomy as he does right now.

“Do you…” she shakes her head, switching up her thought process to say, “let me buy you a coffee.”

Broaching no room for protest, that’s so Iris. She’s the type of girl that goes after what she wants and seldom takes no for an answer.

“So,” Iris says after they’ve settled at a table with hot coffee at their dispense. Barry keeps quiet, only answering the light questions about his holiday break that she asked while they wait in line. Even those are kept short to maintain the venomous tone at bay.

“How’s Patty?”

The cup on the edge of his lips pauses and he removes it to place it back down on the table. “She’s good.” He states simply.

“That’s good.”

He brings the cup back to his lips. “Mhmm.”

“Is this weird?”

Oh, it was beyond weird. It was light years ahead of just being just weird.

“Nope,” and who knew he could play the whole aloof role so well. “Should it be?”

But she knows as well as he does that that’s a goddamn lie.

“I’m glad.” There’s a brief moment of hesitation underlining her stance but she pushes forward. “I’m glad you're happy. That’s all I ever really wanted.”

He wants to scream at the irony.

“I thought seeing you downstairs at the bookstore you wouldn’t want to talk to me, much less grab a coffee.”

“You didn't really leave me with much of a choice, did you?” It’s the first thing he’s said at his own will and as predicted, it’s more biting than his usual even tone.

“No, no I guess not.”

He twirls the hot mocha around and around, diverging from her gaze. He feels guilty for snapping at her like that but he can’t - he won't take it back.

“I’m sorry, Barry.”

Five minutes have gone by since either of them have said anything. Barry knows because he’s been staring at the clock on the far wall since then.

“I handled things with you terribly. I was-”

“Cold.”

She sits up straighter in her chair, forced to accept the truth of his words and nods. “Yes.” Barry watches a dent form in the middle of her brow as she’s forced to swallow the word like a bitter pill and to his own chagrin, he doesn’t feel any better about it. 

“I was wrong to do you like that.”

But at least she has the gumption to acknowledge it.

“Even if it was kind of pseudo-friendship.”

Barry scoffs right to her face, sitting back in his chair to shake his head in disbelief. “Wow,” the words tumble from his lips before he has the chance to reel them back in, leaving his mind to harbor on the word pseudo. Like those three months, they spent together were just some figment of his imagination. 

And maybe not all of it, but some of it was definitely real.

“Barry-” 

“No, it’s okay.”

If this is what she needed to feel better about herself, then fine. He would play along. After all, he knew he would be here one day. 

From the moment he realized it was over, he knew she’d come back to him and apologize. Iris is not the kind of girl to leave things unsettled. She can’t just leave well enough alone, no matter how burnt the bridge has become.

At first he considers turning her away. That when the time comes, he’ll turn her away. It’s petty, he knows but one late evening over break, he realizes with some disdain, that if he doesn’t forgive her then she would always have a hold over him.

He doesn’t want that for Patty.

Or with anyone else for that matter. When it comes down to it, if he can’t get over her, well then, he’s pretty much destined to wreck every relationship he has after.

So it was best to forgive, forget and try to move on.

“Barry-”

“Really, Iris, it’s okay. I’m okay.”

This time, it’s not so hard to smile. He even musters up the courage to reach out to grasp her hand in his own. It’s not the soothing touch they’d grown accustomed to but it’s reassuring that no hard feelings will be left.

“Really. I appreciate this. So thank you.” He squeezes her hand, holds it for what feels like the last time before he lets her go. “From the beginning, you made it clear, I guess I just thought I could change your mind. That’s my fault;

“But I appreciate this,” he motions down to the half empty coffee cup and looks back up at her. “And everything, really. I do.”

He watches her brown eyes flicker from his own down to her hands where the memory of his touch still lingers. Barry thinks that maybe he should leave. There was nothing more to say at this point. She received her forgiveness and this was as close to closure as he was going to get.

But she doesn’t move.

So he doesn’t either. 

And he comes to the conclusion that if anything were to happen; it has to be a direct consent from her. She has to be the one to pop the bubble that constantly circling them because Barry doesn’t have the courage to do so.

“I want you to know, that had things been different, maybe,” she shrugs, shaking her head. “I dunno maybe I could’ve - we could have…”

A charge of anticipation waits just under his skin as he holds his breath for whatever she’s about to say next. He’s pretty sure the thoughts racing through his mind are stamped clear as day on his forehead and he doesn’t give a damn. He’s only sure about one thing: and that is the heartbreak he is sure to face at the end of this but she can’t just sit there and dangle ‘what if’ scenarios in front of his face like that. Even if it is too late.

He still wants to know.

“Iris, what happened?”

They both know he’s not asking about them but the other thing. 

That thing she keeps to herself whenever he dares to ask about her past. The thing she laughs off or changes the subject whenever there is a hint they might be heading into that territory.

It’s the first time he’s asked outright. He respects her too much along with her privacy to force it out of her and a small part of him always held out hope that she would tell him on her own. 

But now, it seems like the right time.

Barry doesn’t know how many minutes have passed since he’s asked the question or if those minutes have culminated into an hour but he can’t keep his eyes off Iris either way, focusing on the way her posture has stiffened since the question left his lips.

He thinks maybe, he’s gone too far and he’s on the brink of retracting, letting her go with a ‘never mind’ but then he watches the tension unbundle from around her to release in a deep sigh, almost like she’s letting go and ready to give in.

“I was dating this guy, Scott. His name is Scott and I thought - no, I knew he was the one for me;

I thought that I had the storybook romance I remember my mother telling me stories about when I was younger. He was going to be the guy I grew old and sprung future generations with. I was going to be Mrs. Iris West - Evans.” 

“Hyphenated?” 

Iris smiles for the first time in what feels like ages and Barry takes some gratification in knowing he can still do that for her.

“I know, I don’t seem like the type but yeah, Mrs. West - Evans. We met during my freshman orientation and he was there with the rest of the volunteers to help us lowly freshman move in and out of all the people he could’ve talked to, he spoke to me; 

“My dad had his suspicions right off the bat.” He watches her eyes glint under the lights as she travels back to a time before Barry existed;

“Back then he was just a bit too over protective about the concept of boys spending time with his daughter especially once my mom passed away. He hassled the poor guy the whole time but through it, all Scott remained kind and eager to welcome me;

“And over time we become friends. Like really good friends, of course, I had Linda, but I’ve always had Linda ya’ know. Scott was new. He was exciting.” Iris laments leaving Barry to interpret what a big deal that was for her. “I thought it couldn't get any better than that but then one night, he kissed me. Right outside of Palmer Hall and it did and I thought this is it. He’s the one.

Barry keeps from rolling out the preverbal ‘but’ that he feels coming, and waits patiently for her to continue.

“I get how that sounds coming from a girl who’s barely experienced life outside the shelter her father’s protection but I was so sure, and Scott never gave me a reason to doubt him, or us.”

“So, what happened?”

It’s her turn to drop her gaze. Barry watches her long fingers tap against the cup. _Tip. Tap. Tip. Tap._ Over and over again, each finger drumming a faster beat and Barry gets the feeling that whatever is next isn’t so good.

“Did he,” he’s not sure he can even bring himself to fully ask her as the worst possible scenario comes to his mind. “Iris?”

_Tip. Tap. Ti-_

Barry reaches across the table, catching her hand in his. He cups them in the shell of his so they’re both holding the mug. He doesn’t want to jump to conclusions but he was leaning towards that direction the more she stayed quiet.

He tries to ease her back to him by rubbing her knuckles with the pad of his thumb, soothing her, trying to tell her without so many words, that she would be okay. He was here for her.

He was always going to be there for her. It’s a sobering thought, one he never imagines especially after the incident but it’s true. Every single word of it.

“When things were good, they were good ya’ know,” she states quietly into the secluded space ranging between the two of them before going on to say. “But when they were bad, they were bad. No in between.” Her gaze lifts and the dark pools of her eyes cast up in the hardening stare of his.

“Sometimes he would just get so angry over stupid things, like if I stayed out too late or wore a dress he didn’t approve of. He would yell at me like I was just some stranger he met in the streets. Like he didn’t love me at all;

“I was starting to feel suffocated and before I knew it, I wasn’t Iris anymore. I was Scott’s girlfriend and that was it. If he were to tell it, I didn’t need to be anything else because it no longer mattered what I wanted, what I said or did. In the face of Scott Evans, I didn’t matter.”

“You matter Iris.” He grips her hands. Barry doesn’t need to hear anymore. He gets the picture loud and clear. As far as he’s concerned the past can stay in the past where it belonged because she does matter, she always has and she always would.

“He dumped me, he made it seem like I was too complicated, needy. He said he should have known better than to deal with someone like me.” Her laughter spits bitterly from her lips as she shakes her head.

“How fucked up is that? To go from loving me one minute to acting like I was just some girl he bothered to entertain for three years. And after all of that, I still loved him;

“The night of your party he was there with another girl and I just,” she shook her head, at a loss for words for the time being. “I just blanked out,” she describes the memory as if it was just yesterday instead of months ago. “I wanted to hurt him as much as he hurt me and you-”

“I was there.”

“You were there.”

That’s the truth. That’s what he’d been waiting for so long but it doesn't give him a sense of relief, the weight he carries on his shoulders don't feel any lighter knowing what he knows now. He just wishes he could’ve been there for sooner. 

Screw everything else.

“When I realized that maybe this was starting to become something more for you I freaked out. Like,” she sighed heavily, “really freaked out. The thought of you, of us being together it terrified me. All I could think about was Scott-”

“I’m not Scott.”

“I get that.”

“So then why-”

“Because, Barry, you would be the real thing.”

“Would that be so bad, Iris, I don’t understand-”

“Just let me finish, please. I feel like I’m about to lose my nerve as is,” He waits on a nervous edge for her to collect her thoughts, he feels like he can’t breathe again.

“I knew from the moment we stayed up talking our first night together that you were the type of guy that would center his entire world around the person he loves.” Iris dares him to argue her point, he can’t say anything. It’s the truth, I mean, wasn’t that what you were supposed to do when you loved someone?

“At the time I wasn’t ready for that.” she is sure to correct herself. “I’m still not ready for that. Barry, you deserve to be with someone who can love the way that you love. That’s not me.”

He calls her name but she doesn't answer as she’s lost again to him and he dares to move around the table closer to her. His arm wraps around her shoulder, he’s hesitant at first because maybe this is the opposite of what she needs but it's the only thing he can think in the terms of comfort.

“I’m sorry I dumped all of my crap on you.” It's muffled against his collar but he hears her loud and clear. The only thing he can think to do is hold her tighter.

“I’m glad that you did.” He tests the waters a little by smiling into the curls of her hair. “I mean, that’s what friends are for, right?”

“Is that what this makes us? Friends, are you sure you want to go down that road with me again?”

“As long as it’s for real this time?” Barry sighs. He’s not going to look at this under any other light but a positive one. “Then, yeah, I do.”

**…**

It's Friday night and by some miracle, Cisco manages to get both Barry and Caitlin out of the house and into the local karaoke bar. 

And maybe it’s the promise of beer that he swears he’ll pay for the rest of the night that gets them in the door but it’s the atmosphere of drunk college students wailing to 90s and 2000s classics that get them to stay.

As the hours passes they become a part of the percentage of students with alcohol fueling their system to invoke enough courage to hit the stage. From his seat, Barry watches on with dilated eyes as his friends sing their own rendition of Promiscuous Girl.

“I hope you don't mind me saying this but you’re friends sound terrible.”

He chuckles first, hiding the laugh behind his hand as he looks her over bundled warmly in her winter jacket. “No offense taken.”

He stands to hug her, something he wouldn’t have been brave enough had it not been for the alcohol in his system or the heart to heart they shared a few weeks ago within that time frame things had changed.

They weren’t best friends by any stretch of the imagination but they were taking the necessary steps in that direction. With sex off the table, it was easier to just talk to each other.

At first he thought it was going to be a disaster, as they tried the whole friends things before, but Iris, the angel she was, made it easy on him to fit into this new mold that he found himself in. 

“You sound any better?”

“Oh noo, no, no, no, no, nooo. I could never,” Barry is giggles as he slumps over the table, holding his hand up with a fist tucked under his chin. “I mean I could,” he slurs. “Did you know I was a part of the boys’ choir at my old school?”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” his voice fills with pride as he stands up to demonstrate, “nothing but mostly swaying and background vocals,” he sways a little too much and Iris has to catch him by the arm to steady himself. He giggles again.

“But I could never get up there by myself, nope. No way. Nu-uh,” he shakes his head. “No way José.”

“You’re drunk Barry.”

“I am not.”

She lifts the half empty pitcher and eyes him. “Are you sure?”

“Positively positive.” he mumbles, leaning back in his chair with his hands gripping the end of the table to help keep him upright, he leans a little and burbs, chuckling as he tries to excuse himself. “That was rude of me. I’m sorry Iris,” he smiles. “Maybe I’m just a little bit drunk. Like ten percent.”

“Ten?” 

“Okay, okay - you got me.” He tries to stand up but when he stumbles to the side he thinks better of it and crashes back down to the stool. “Twenty-five percent, and I won’t go any higher.” 

She thinks he’s adorable like this, but then again when isn’t he? “Alright, how about we get you home?”

“But you just got here,” he pauses, “what are you doing here?”

“You called me.”

“I did?”

Iris nods, trying her best to hide the smirk. “Yeah, you thought you were calling a taxi and you dialed my number instead.”

“I did?”

“You did.” she confirms, recalling the phone call she received less than twenty minutes ago. She was just finishing her shift when Barry’s name popped up on the screen of her phone. After she is able to make out his intention for a cab, she managed to get the address of where he was and headed over.

“You said you needed a ride home.”

“I did, hmmm,” he nods to himself. “I did because Caitlin is going to be a doctor and she said if we were drinking we definitely couldn’t drive because she’s going to be a doctor you know and she’s heard horror stories about accidents caused by drunk drivers so she made us walk.” He points to the girl specifically on stage. “She’s smart like that. Did you know that she’s going to be a doctor?”

“I thought you said you weren’t drunk.”

“Forty percent and you can’t tell me otherwise.”

“Uh huh.” 

He stands straight grabbing for the pitcher and takes another sip from the straw. “Forty-two percent now, and no higher.”

“Okay, big guy,” Iris chuckles, removing the pitcher from his grasp to help him stand up straight. “how about we get you and your friend’s home.”

“Yeeees! You’re so awesome, Iris. Awesome Iris,” he giggles. “That’s your new name now. Awesome, Awesome Iris.” He takes her by the hand, pulling her into the crowd until they stand at the edge of the stage and yells out. “You guys look who I found,” he makes a show out of holding up her hand. “Awesome Iris is here to take us home, guys, come on before she changes her mind.”

They’re like the most adorkable trio Iris has ever laid her eyes on as she watches them get their things together as best they can. Cisco is singing Mariah Carey at the top of his lungs and Caitlin is holding him by the waste trying to steady herself as they walk out of the bar. Barry walks beside her, putting his long legs to good use as he skips along the sidewalk subsequently getting him to the car first. 

“I won! I got here first.”

She pulls into their driveway not long after that, and while they are very cute - they sound horrible and Iris is grateful she has them all safely home just as the opening notes of a Nicki Minaj song starts to play. 

Iris gets them out of the car, and it amazes her that they’re like tired toddlers after a day full of adventure. Still excited from the sugar rush but completely useless. Her point is further proven as Caitlin stumbles at the door, uttering “stupid key,” as she tries to stick it in the lock. She’s overestimating it by an inch and Iris watches as the three of them join forces to make it work. It’s funny, she’ll be the first to admit but as a chill wind passes over head Iris realizes that if they have any hope of making it inside their warm home she would have to be the one to make it happen.

“You’re a sweetheart.”

“A saint.”

“Awesome Iris is the best you guys, I told you.”

Barry wraps his long arm over her shoulder, squeezing her to his side and she helps him up to his room. As soon as his bed comes into sight, he retracts himself, kicking off his shoes and undoes his pants - Iris looks away to give him the privacy - before she catches him face planting the bed with a sigh.

Before he’s out completely, she asks him where he keeps his medicine and without lifting his head he points back in the direction of the hallway where she can see the bathroom at the end of it. She starts there and makes her way downstairs to the kitchen where she finds a case of bottled water and grabs three.

She finds Caitlin’s rooms first, turning the corner from the kitchen and into the living room. Her bedroom door is wide open and Iris can see her moving around in there. “I’m coming in,” she warns, and when she gets no response she finds her in the adjoined bathroom brushing her teeth, and at least she’s not worse for wear.

Iris lifts the bottle of Advil and water, “I brought these for you.”

“You’re a God send.”

Iris chuckles, turning to put two capsules on her night stand with the bottle. “I don’t know about that, but make sure you take these, okay. Good night Caitlin.”

The pre-med student waves frantically, outwardly scrubbing her tongue with her toothbrush and Iris laughs again as she backs out of the girl’s room. Upstairs she finds Cisco sitting at the edge of his bed trying to get his boots off, but he’s practically lying horizontally with his foot still on the floor.

“Need help?”

“Isis!”

She tilts her head, thinking to correct him but there was really no use especially in his current state, sitting the water and pills on his dresser she walks closer to untie his shoe. “There, you should be good now.”

He manages a quick thank you before he’s knocked out on his bed. She turns off his light and closes the door before she turns in the direction of Barry's room.

He’s snoring lightly but laying across the bed just as she’d left him. Her step pauses, as she watches the restless look on his features down to the easy smile guarding his lips. She’s watched him sleep before and it always amazes her how at ease he looks, like the world can't touch him even if it tried its’ hardest.

She hoped he stayed that way.

When she places the water and Advil on his nightstand, he stirs a little and green eyes peek out from under long lashes. He says her name and it roots her to the spot beside his bed.

“Stay.”

She shouldn’t. She really, really shouldn’t. There is a whole list of reasons why she should back away and high tail it across campus, but he’s sitting up to make room for her, and he’s looking at her with those eyes and, “okay.” She could always leave when he fell back asleep which shouldn’t be long from now. “But only for a little while.”

**...**

Barry turns over, his eyes are still closed but he can already feel pressure building from behind his eyelids.

He's never drinking again.

His arms push up and out, elongating into a full body stretch that he can feel down to his toes. One hand brushes out to the side of the bed into something that is definitely not his down comforter.

His eyes crack open to a mass of dark tendrils taking up one side of the bed and worries that he’s fallen asleep in the wrong place. But this hair is too dark to be Caitlin’s and too long to be Cisco’s and as he looks around at the familiar settings, yup, this is definitely his room. He turns back, lifting slightly to lean on his elbow and down at the face of the person sharing his bed.

“Iris.”

As if saying her name summons her from her slumber, she turns over, body fully facing him and tucks into his side. She lets out a low hum that doesn’t stir her enough to wake fully but she does open her eyes for a bit before she’s back off to her dreams.

“Morning,” he tries again but gets no reaction, deciding to leave her alone for the time being, he sits up.

The room spins just slightly and he contemplates laying back down because moving doesn’t seem like such a good idea right now.

But he’s has to pee.

It’s a subsequent side effect to the amount of liquor he digested and tries to sit up again, this time slowly. He’s not standing at his full height, and his feet can’t get him to walk in a straight enough line but they do carry him to the nightstand where he finds the water and Advil Iris has left there the night before and thank goodness for her. He never remembers stuff like this.

He grabs a change of clothes en-route to the bathroom and after emptying his bladder he takes a long hot shower that brings him back to life somewhat. 

He’s walking the hall when the smell of bacon wafts past him. His long legs carry him to the kitchen in seconds and there he finds Cisco standing over the stove with a pair of dark shades covering his eyes and the kitchen darker than normal. He’s closed all the blinds.

“Smells amazing.”

Cisco looks as crappy as Barry feels, dressed in his boxers and the Daffy Duck slippers Caitlin jokingly bought him for Christmas one year. His whirlwind of hair is brushed back into a sloppy ponytail and he has a slight green undertone.

Barry pats him on the shoulder, moving over to the table to take a seat and Cisco drops a plate filled with eggs, bacon and biscuits in front of him.

Eat he mumbles tiredly in Spanish before moving back to the stove. Barry is just about half way done with his plate when Caitlin shuffles in, wrapped in her house robe and her face mask pulled back against her bedridden curls. She sits in the seat across from Barry and Cisco gets up to get her plate out of the microwave.

She lifts her hand, meaning to say thank you but Cisco gets it. They’ve been here enough times to know each other's traits. For a while, it’s just the three of them hunched over their plates, Barry’s second, as they work on regaining their strength after a laid back but alcohol endured night.

“Morning guys.”

Caitlin starts first, almost knocking over the cup of orange juice at her side. Both Barry and Cisco looks up to find the new presence in the room and Cisco lets out a low groan, hands flying to his head as the sunglasses fall to the bridge of his nose. 

Iris stands awkwardly under the frame of the kitchen entryway as the three housemates assess her from the table.

“Morning,” Barry is the first to say, breaking the strain and his friends follow suit.

“Hungry?”

“I should probably get going.”

“No,” Caitlin speaks up, getting up as fast as her equilibrium can manage to offer her the seat next to hers. “Please stay. Cisco’s a great cook, really, you’d be missing out.”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not,” she assures as Barry slides the plate in front of Iris. “Go ahead, dig in.”

The kitchen is filled with silence once more as they go back to eating, every once in a while someone mumbles to pass the syrup but otherwise it holds quiet until Barry finishes off another plate. 

“Thanks again, Iris for helping us out last night.”

“Yeah, I’ve never been more relieved to see a sedative in all my life.” Caitlin manages a small smile as she gets up from the table to walk over to the sink, rinse her plate and load it into the dishwasher.

“Si.”

“He doesn’t handle hangovers well.” Barry explains.

“We’ve all been there.”

Cisco grumbles some more, excusing himself from the table and disappear around the corner. Caitlin is not far behind him, cleaning his plate up first and thanking Iris again before she follows Cisco to his room.

Barry moves around the kitchen cleaning up the last little bit of leftovers while Iris finishes. She brings her plate over so he can start the dishwater.

“Sorry I drunk dialed you last night,” he mentions when they’ve collected her things from upstairs and he’s walking her to the door. “I know you probably had a million other things to do besides play chauffeur to a bunch of adults.”

“It was no problem, really. Your friends are funny. Call me anytime.”

Barry snorts, slowing his stride as they approach the front door. “Don’t speak so soon. I might just hold you up on that offer.”

She nods, sliding her coat over her shoulders and when she’s bundled up warmly to face cold February weather Barry moves in to hug her, and as if it’s not even her own decision her body melts into him and she hugs him back.

“Seriously Iris, thank you. For everything. I,” he tilts his head back taking a different approach “We. We really appreciated you coming through for us last night.” 

“Anytime.”

They smile at each other before he steps back and opens the door for her. Outside, it’s snowing lightly but it's enough for him to warrant that she get home safely and to call if she has any trouble.

“I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, same.”

He waits at the door for her to pull the car out of the driveway and disappear into the distance before he goes back inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the continuous support :)


	6. VI.

“Ice cream in the dead of winter, are you crazy?”

Iris giggles over the line, as she tries her best to bury her smile in the back of her hand. “Ice cream anytime of the year is as good as any. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“We obviously have varying definitions of the term fun.”

“Please.”

Barry grumbles, jaw ticking, feeling his will power dwindle even though he’s going to have to walk in eight inches of snow. How in the world was she capable of such things? “fine, where do you want to meet?”

“Actually, I’m outside.”

A car horn honks three times and Barry lifts up from his spot on the couch to peek outside, sure enough a blue Honda is parked in the driveway.

“How long have you been out here?”

His feet carry him to the door before the question fully leaves his lips. He cracks it open, “motherfucker,” the chill March wind brush over his bare toes and he slams the door shut, vying to peek out of the kitchen window instead.

Outside he can make out Iris sitting in the driver seat, her favorite winter hat tucked warmly over her ears and she’s dressed in a school sweater. “Where is your coat?”

“I’m fine, Bear, now come on Dairy Queen won’t be open all night.” The line goes dead before he has a chance to respond.

It takes him a while but after a few minutes Barry emerges dressed in a thick winter coat, a hat that covers the majority of his face, a red scarf and matching gloves with a set of winter boots that look old and worn but useful all the same.

“Took you long enough.”

Barry unwraps the scarf covering his mouth to sputter, “are you kidding me, it’s like negative 30 degrees out here, I couldn’t just run upstairs and grab my shoes.”

Iris chuckled, putting the gear in reverse to back out of the driveway. “You look like the kid from the _Christmas Movie_.”

His matches her laughter with a sarcastic one of his own. He hopes that she receives the slant of his eyes as a warning that her comments are unwelcome.

“You’re not funny. I hope you know that.”

Iris is still laughing as she slowly drives down the empty, icy streets but shows mercy and cranks up the heat.

For the past month or so, Iris and Barry have rebuilt the bridge that separated them for so long and with each day it became sturdier until it was the new foundation for them to build on. Effortless was the word Iris used to describe her new friendship.

It was almost scary how easily they fit into each other’s lives because, honestly, being Barry Allen’s friend had to be one of the simplest things she’s ever done especially if you counted the endless hours they spent geeking out on re-runs of Archer and Game of Thrones. The days he spent entertaining her with stories from his childhood, the shenanigans Cisco talked him into that Caitlin would get him out of.

Hours she spent late nights in the library as the prepared for semester's first exams and weekends spent in the student union game room where they relished in their equal love of bowling.

Late nights at Walmart, goofing off in the toy aisle just because and sharing brownies at Jitters when their sweet tooth kicked in.

I mean the sex was great, but she kind of wishes it could’ve always been like this. At the very least, it comes in a very close second after all the earth shattering sex they use to have.

“You could use this you know.” Iris turns, pulling around to the drive through. “After the week you’ve had, you deserve some ice cream.”

 Barry grumbles for an entirely different reason this time, pressing his forehead to the cold window.

“Yeah, you definitely need this.”

He did it. Bit the bullet, pulled the trigger, ripped the band-aid clear off – however you want to phrase it, Barry finally broke up with Patty. It was during a trip he took back home last weekend. Actually, it was the sole purpose for the trip, and for Barry that made him even more of an asshole.

At the time Iris wasn’t sure exactly what she could do. His obvious hurt for his friend pained her to see, but in the words of Cisco it “had to be done.”

So Iris stayed that night. She didn’t push him for details – she wasn’t sure she wanted them in the first place but all he would say is that he told her the truth. Whatever that means.

“Can we just… not?”

He’s not really all that keen on discussing what went down that night.

And like always, Iris keeps the questions she has on her mind to herself, letting it go with a simple, “okay.”

“Welcome to DQ, go ahead with your order when you’re ready.”

“What do you want?”

He squints, turning his head just slightly. “You don’t suppose they have hot tea, do you?”

“Barry.”

“You’re right, that’s a bit of a stretch. Hot chocolate, do you think they have hot chocolate?”

“We’re here to get ice cream.”

“Correction, you're here for ice cream. Sane people, I’ll remind you Miss West are smart enough to refrain from such actions.”

“But ice cream makes things better and that’s what we need right now.”

Barry actually rolls his eyes in annoyance, in one of the rare few times, it’s been directed at her. “Iris.”

“What, oh, come on Barry, seriously?” Iris ask for just one more second to the intercom before rolling up the window to keep the cold weather at bay. “You won’t talk to me about it but could you at least just let me do this for you. Please.” She already feels bad enough, he won’t say it but she knows that this is all her fault and no matter how much he tries to skirt around the issue, the fact of the matter is Patty’s friendship is a causality to her stupidity. “Don’t shut me out.”

They take in the silence of the car and Iris feels like she’s been left waiting on pins and needles but she needs him to know, to understand, that’s she’s going to be here. No matter what.

The okay comes, but just barely above a whisper but for right now, it’s good enough for her.

“You could win an Oscar, you know that?”

Iris snorts, turning the other way to roll down the window. “Daytime Emmy at best - Hi, I’ll take a medium strawberry cheesecake blizzard and…”

“A chocolate milkshake.”

“A large chocolate milkshake.”

“You’re going to get me fat.”

“I’ll love you either way.”

She’s joking, of course, having said it before a number of times, yet, a fresh blush never fails to appear.

"So-"

“So…”

Iris rolls her eyes, tagging him on the arm as she inches the car up to window. “My family is kind of having a get-together Saturday, family is a bit of a stretch really, it’s just going to be my dad, Wally, Linda and myself ... anyways, he has a rare day off and thought it would be a good idea to everyone over for dinner. So...”

“So?”

“You’re annoying.”

Barry smile is anything if not mocking, he keeps quiet, though.

“I was wondering if maybe you… I dunno, maybe wanted to come?”

“Over for dinner?”

“Yeah, I mean. You’re always saying how much the food on campus sucks and I figure who wants to miss a free home cooked meal and f.y.i my dad makes a mean lasagna, it’s kind of his specialty.”

“You drive a hard bargain, lasagna you say, hmm,” he twists his lips, bringing a hand up to stroke thoughtfully at his jaw.

“Barry.”

“What, I’m thinking.”

At the arch of her brow, he gives in. “So I’ll pick you up at six?”

“You can pick me up at six.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

“Awesome.”

“Spectacular.”

“Stupendous.”

They’re laughing so hard they barely register the annoyed cashier waiting at the window.

Something from her father’s era is playing on the radio as she drives down the highway in route to her childhood home. Iris enjoys it all the same singing softly along with Earth, Wind & Fire as she stares straight ahead for the exit, she just wishes that was all she could concentrate on.

“Has anyone ever told you it was impolite to stare?”

“I can’t believe you’re actually bringing him.” Linda sounds like a giddy school girl on a high that has Iris rolling her eyes and sucking her teeth in succession.

“Could you at least keep your voice down?” In the rearview mirror, she can make out Barry’s lanky frame slumped forward, fast asleep. “He can probably hear you.”

“So.”

“Linda!”

A smug smile flashes across Linda’s features and she turns back around to sit properly in her seat and it should be good enough for Iris but no, Linda can never leave good enough alone. “Barry and Iris sitting in the tree…”

“I swear to God, Linda Marie Park.”

“… _k.i.s.s.i.n.g_.”

Iris thinks about pulling the car to the side of the road and making her walk – but no, be the bigger person. She always has to be the bigger person.

“First, comes love, then comes marriage.”

“If you finish that stupid song, I swear I’ll never cover for you when your mom calls.”

“Harsh.”

“Try me.”

Linda scrunches up her face, falling back into her seat with a compliant sigh. “Fine.” She checks over her shoulder to make sure the topic of their conversation is still out like a light before poking Iris’s shoulder.

“I still can’t believe you're bringing him home to meet Joe.”

“You’ve met Joe.”

“It’s not the same and you know. Joe’s like the extra dad that I never asked for but still somehow manage to have. Barry, is a boy. That you’re bringing home.”

“I’ve brought boys over before.”

“Uh, no you haven’t. And before you go off and give me this big spiel about yes you have, the guys from high school don’t count.”

“Like hell, they don’t.”

“One,” Linda starts, pointing off on her index finger, “they were on the swim team. You didn’t date any of them, and two, the few guys you were interested in high school never made it past day two.”

“Hey, they talked themselves out of dates with me. Boys are dumb, that’s not my fault.”

“And the only reason your father knew of …” she makes a point of not saying his name out loud, “is because he met Joe during orientation. So yeah, this is kind of a pretty big frickin’ deal.”

“Barry and I are just-”

“Friends now, I know.”

Iris finds that hard to believe since Linda had a habit of giving her two cents when not needed. Things along the lines of, _‘so are you going to give him another handy in the library’_ or _‘why waste time going out when you can get straight to the fun part.’_ For a second, Iris regrets informing Linda of her whereabouts last semester but she told the girl everything. It was a miracle she managed to keep it from her for so long in the first place.

“Could, you just chill. Linda, seriously. He’s already freaked out as is.”

“Should he be?”

“Linda!”

“Fine, _fine._ ” She huffs. “I’ll be cool.”

Thankfully she lets it drop and the sounds of Aretha and Dionne play over the speakers, leaving Iris to dwell on Linda’s teasing and its implications. Sure, it’s not like she hasn’t thought about it. You know, about Barry – in that way. It seemed logical enough and she certainly spent enough time lying awake at night pondering over ‘what if’ factors but what normal person hasn’t.

I mean who doesn’t want to be happy?

The exit she needs finally appears and she merge into the lane to get off the interstate. She keeps straight until it’s time to make a left into her old neighborhood, stopping at the fourth house on the block she turns into the driveway behind her brothers’ Chevy.

The jerk of her brakes stir Barry awake in the back seat, and the sound of a door slamming is enough for him to sit upright.

“Hey sleepyhead, welcome back.” Iris ruffles his hair as he gets out of the car, he smiles tiredly before reaching back for the grocery bag in the backseat.

He makes a content noise and follows her up the walk and into the house where the door has been left opened by Linda who’s already inside.

“Don’t be nervous, okay.”

Prior to the night, Barry had no qualms with meeting her family. It was only as he was getting dressed that he realized he was meeting her father. The man that raised her, taught her and protected her – the same guy who believed by Iris’s own admission was good enough for her. It was enough for him to change his mind completely but Iris had already notified her father that he was coming, so he couldn’t back out.

That would look shady.

So – gifts, yes. A gift would work.

“Do you think he’ll like the cake?”

“He’ll love it, don’t worry Bear. It’ll be fine.” And of course, she’s all smiles and chilled because, hello, she’s Iris and she’s perfect. And that’s such a daughter thing to say.

Joe is a big man. It’s the first thing Barry notices as he steps over the threshold into the house. And that’s like the pot calling the kettle black, he knows but really, even he has to crane his neck just slightly to look the man in the eye.

And his presence, it takes up the whole room.

How in the world…

“Daddy!” Iris exclaims, letting go of Barry’s hand to race across the room and into her fathers’ embrace.

“Baby girl.”

That cannot be his real voice. Is it always that commanding?

He watches from his corner of the room, the chill from the open door playing at his back, and he wonders briefly, if maybe – just maybe anyone would notice if he waited in the car until Iris and Linda are ready to go.

“You must be Barry.”

And what the ever living hell, he’s fast too.

Joe doesn’t wait, taking Barry’s hand in a firm shake.

And strong. Internally, Barry winces but muscles through. His dad always told him that a man’s handshake told the world about his character. And damnit, Joe West would know by the end of the night Barry Allen has good character.

“Yes sir, it’s nice to meet you, sir.”

Joe turns to Iris, smiling. “I like this kid.”

“Dad, be nice.”

Iris moves around the two men, closing the door and taking Barry’s jacket with her to the closet, leaving Barry to stand awkwardly across from Joe, praying for her quick return.

I mean, he’s never been great at outright lying. So, if Iris wants to keep the illusion that she’s pure and innocent in her fathers’ eyes, she should probably hurry back. All it would take is one question – not that he can imagine Joe wanting to know such things about his daughter – but Barry is absolute shit when it comes to keeping his cool under pressure.

He probably should’ve mentioned that to her.

“Iris tells me you're a forensics major at Central U. What’re you looking to get into after school?”

If Joe’s hard stare was anything to go by - definitely not his daughter. Okay, no, keep your mind far away from that topic, Allen. He clears his throat and cups the back of his stiff neck.

“Um.”

The older West, chuckles, throwing a thumb over his shoulder when iris reappears. “What’s wrong this kid?”

“Dad, what did you do?”

“Nothing.” He chuckles, with the shake of his head, “nothing at all.”

And what the hell is that supposed to mean??

Barry is almost faint, he swears it but Iris comes into his line of sight, taking a hold of his hand to offer a reassuring smile, finally he feel like he can breathe again. “Sorry.”

“I told you not to be nervous.”

“Well, you didn’t tell me your dad was Andre the Giant either.”

She snorts, leading him further into the house where Wally, Linda, and her father are sitting around the dining room table.

Meeting Wally is easier - like a lot easier – Iris’s little brother is all smiles, gets Barry’s sense of humor and even has a few jokes of his own and what’s even better is that they can bond over science because how cool is that? Once he relaxes, the lasagna goes down much easier and Iris is right, it’s the best he’s ever had.

“You got an internship at Star labs!”

“Not officially,” Barry blushes at the attention. “I’ve turned in my application and my professors have been hinting at it but you know what they say, hope for the best but prepare for the worse.” He scoots over to leave Iris enough space to sit beside him.

“Don't listen to him, he got in.”

“You raise your expectations for me way too high. I know for a fact thousands of applicants have submitted their names, why would they pick me when the next Harrison Wells is somewhere out there.”

“Because you’re brilliant, Barry. The world already has one Harrison Wells, what it needs now is a Barry Allen.”

Iris links the hand resting on his thigh with her own and time stops again, something that has become a usual occurrence whenever she was around. Her belief in him, the actual vocalization of it is new,though, and how in the world did he ever get so lucky.

“Dessert's done.” Barry starts at the slap to his shoulder and he looks up to find the menacing stare of Joe just above him. Slowly, he unravels his fingers to place both hands securely in his lap.

The West children along with Linda have reentered the dining room but Joe makes sure to have Barry hang back so he can take the seat next to him as opposed to the one further along the table where he originally sat.

Needless to say, dessert is pretty silent for Barry even though Wally praises the lemon pound cake, attributing it to one of his new favorites and ask him where he purchased it so he could buy one of his own.

It feels like a millennium has passed before they start to get up from the table after all the talking and jokes have been said and Barry is beyond relieved to get started back to campus.

That is until Joe pulls him aside.

“Barry.”

“Sir.”

The entire night Joe has been watching the kid, paying close attention to the way he was with Iris and to his relief – she was happy. Truly. But, Joe wouldn’t be Joe if he couldn’t relinquish a warning because no one messed over his children.

“Thanks for coming.”

“Thanks for having me sir.”

Joe scratches at his goatee, looking back at Iris and Linda talking feverishly before he focuses his gaze back on Barry.

“You and Iris-”

“We’re not,” Barry clears his throat, trying to slow his pace. He didn’t want to raise suspicion by sounding too eager. “We’re just friends.”

“Uh huh.”

Barry can tell Joe doesn’t believe a word he’s saying but it’s the truth. He hoped to God that was good enough.

“Just take care of her, okay. The last guy he did some damage,” Joe glanced back at his daughter, sure to keep his voice low, “she won't tell me what happened and I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing,” he peered at Barry as if he had the answers he was looking for. “All I know is that she deserves to be happy. Can you do that?”

Barry doesn’t have to think about it, seeing Iris happy has become linked with his DNA.

“Yes."

**...**

The end of March is a fickle ass bitch, Iris swears under her breath to prove her point. One minute it’s cold as balls and before you know it the sun is shining and you’re left to think _finally_ spring is here only for it to rain and then ice over with snow.

She wonders if moving to Florida is worth the hassle just to have a consistent weather pattern but as Barry kindly reminds her that Florida is a flat state and more probable of natural disasters as opposed to good ol’ Central City.

“Fuck your logic Allen, I’m cold.”

He chuckles softly, behind the scarf that covers his mouth but huddles in closer to her, offering what little warmth he can. They’ve just finished catching lunch in one of the cafés off campus and since they’ve never been too good at shutting up when the time calls for it, Iris is running behind schedule for her Adv. Journalism II class.

He loops an arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer. “This should help.”

Iris keeps herself from mentioning how much it does. That how whenever he’s close to her like this – and if she’s been truthful, whenever he’s near or she’s thinking about him – he tends to do the job. Okay, so maybe it’s the fluttery mess in her stomach his smile causes but whatever – he didn’t have to know that.

“Oh,” Barry snaps his fingers as they turn a corner and her lecture hall comes into view, “before I forget Cisco told me to tell you that you owe him a rematch.” A brow lifts up, a clear question mingling there as the memory of Cisco cornering him this morning transpires. Something about ‘his girl’, and how ‘she wasn’t slick’ - that he was the ‘rightful champ’. “Did I miss something?”

“Besides Cisco not being able to take defeat, nope,” Iris smiles, ducking her face to inhale his scent one more time before she has to let him go.

He nods, a quirky smile dancing across his face and although it’s hidden behind his thick red scarf, it is clearly evident in his bright green eyes. Light snow falls down around him and as they move closer to the door, their feet move carefully through the snow as to not slip, Barry’s focus is focused on how the small snowflakes drop on her hair before melting and softly over the bridge of her nose, pronouncing her rosy cheeks that he’s dying to touch.

“Well, have fun, um … learning stuff.”

“Real smooth Allen.”

It’s a crime how well she knows him. Even more sinful that she doesn’t make him feel shame for it.

“Later Iris.”

They exchange small waves to each other. Iris, backing up towards the door as she does so, until her back comes in contact with it, giggling she tells him goodbye a final time before escaping into the building.

She’s trapped in her own world in the time it takes her to walk to the elevator. In this world the weather is warm, the sky is cloudless and flowers are in bloom. Barry is there too. And so are his alluring eyes, and his dimples and his lips that melt over hers exactly the right way…

For once, everything is perfect as it should be. At least until the elevator opens to her floor.

Standing in the hallway a guy with a smooth even skin tone and warm brown eyes look up. At first, he’s just as shocked to see her but he masks it with a pull of his lips and stalks forward.

“Scott.”

**…**

Barry doesn’t have time to tell the person knocking rapidly at his door to wait a second. He thinks its Cisco coming to bug him but is surprised to find Iris entering.

“What are you doing here?” He’s going for a joking tone because of course, she’s welcome anytime but he literally just dropped her off at her classless than twenty minutes ago, and he seriously doubts that her strict professor would let his class go so early.

“Did you forget something?”

Barry turns fully in his computer chair, getting up to shuffle across the room in his socks. "Or maybe you missed -" the joke, however, dies on his tongue the closer he gets, catching the tremble of her lower lip.

“Iris-"  _mmph._

He'd be lying if he told you he hasn't pictured this scenario a thousand times before, in which Iris comes to her senses and stops being afraid of him ... of them, but the stinging pressure of her lips are all wrong as well as the salt of her tears.

“Iris, Iris,” he peels himself away even as her lips chase after his, "what's wrong?"

Iris refuses to hear him, surprising him with a power he never knew she possessed in a kiss that bruises the shell of his lips. Buttons from his flannel bounce on the floor after she's ripped it open allowing the feel of cotton against his chest to be replaced by the cold, desperate touch of her hand.

“Talk." _kiss. "_  To." _kiss._ "Me. Tell me what’s wrong and I’ll fix. I promise. I’ll fix it.” An inch is all the space either one of them allow. Iris clinging to him, Barry too afraid to let her go. "I promise, Iris.” He whispers, forehead leaning against hers. 

"Please," her voice breaks getting the word out. She doesn't want to talk about it. She just wants to feel. Barry does that. He makes her feel something. "Please," she says again, moving closer to seal the gap, lips sliding over his slower this time. "Please," she pleads again and again until any protest he has, dies.

Her coat drops to the floor first, his shirt follows until they're stripped down to their underwear, lying in his bed. His touch is hesitant, careful in its travels over her smooth skin, swaying away from the areas she needs most. How does he tell her that this is where they must stop, for her sake and their friendship? He wants her, God does he want her, just not like this. 

One of her hands slinks down to the band of his boxers as if to test his resolve, dipping inside to scrape a nail against his base, edging him on. Barry's eyes catch hers, green boring into brown and swears he can hear the tremor of his heartbeat loud and clear in those seconds he waits. When she retracts, the tension sweeps from his body with a heavy sigh, moving closer he kisses her forehead, thanking her, for retracting, for not running away, for allowing him to take care of her, for this moment, every kiss lingering longer than its' predecessor until her finds sanctuary in the feel of her mouth again.

To his relief, her body loosens, letting go of whatever burden she carried in here. “There’s my Iris,” he whispers. “There you are beautiful.” Barry cups her cheeks, openly staring at the woman who unknowingly held his heart wherever she went.

There's no denying it, he's in love. He’s not afraid to admit that anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “What is it you want me to reconcile myself to? I was born here almost 60 years ago; I'm not going to live for another 60 years. You always told me it takes time. Well, it’s taken my father’s time, my mother’s time, my aunt and uncles’ time, my brothers and my sisters’ time, my nieces and nephews’ time. How much time do you want, for your progress?” - James Baldwin, 1983.
> 
> Tell me, how much time do you need? #BLM


	7. VII.

The sun is not up, blanketing his room in a dark layer of blue that seeps the corners in shadows making it hard to see. At his side, she’s fast asleep, head tucked into his shoulder and minus her even breathing everything remains still, at least he does, afraid to wake her up in the light of dawn. His eyes fall, watching her features smooth over in her dreamless state, finding her peaceful, a complete 180 compared to how she barged in earlier, reckless and frightened. Of what, he’s still not sure.

It bothers him, almost, that she doesn't trust him fully, yet. He knows … he knows, she’s trying. That the last few weeks have shown major progression but he can’t help but feel for each step they take forward, she takes three steps back for every bump they cross in the road. It’s not like he’s well versed in these things, relationships, the two he’s had have been complete disasters but what he does know: is that you don’t run when things get hard. You don’t hide or try to find a quick fix to cover up for the pain and confrontation. That, he does know.

His eyes scan her face, starting at her brow leading down to the curve of her chin, taking all of her in, not just physically but the person he knows her to be. The strong, stubborn, witty woman he's come to know. The one that’s enraptured his thoughts and focus from the moment she walked across the room and said hi to him.

The same person who refused to see him, and really see what’s been right in front of her all along.

Barry wants to find a way to change that but Iris is will-full that way. She won't do anything if she feels like she’s being swayed. He doesn’t want her that way anyway, he much rather she come to the realization on her own. How long does a person wait for that, though? Should he even bother, he watches as she moves against him, hand traveling across his chest, pulling him just a little tighter in her sleep and thinks with dread, what if she never feels the same way.

The irony, he understands how Patty feels now.

Sleep is hard to come by with his mind racing and before he knows it the sun is peeking through his window, and he can hear Cisco, having earlier classes than both he and Caitlin starts shuffling outside of his room. In another hour his alarm clock will come to life and this moment he has with her will be over.

Because she’s not going to want to talk about it. She’s going to act like it never happened. She’s going to pretend she doesn’t see the question in his eyes, lingering just behind the seal of his lips. She’s going to avoid him until she feels it's safe to move on.

She’s good at that.

Sliding out of bed, he gathers up her clothes, folding them neatly in his desk chair before finding fresh ones for himself. The shower turns on down the hall, the pipes rattle from the first usage of the day. Cisco usually is in and out so with any luck, he’ll be out of there before she wakes up.

It’s a dick move, but why does he have to create this fantasy that everything will be fine when he knows it’s not. If she want’s to talk, she’ll know where to find him. But he seriously doubts it.

“You're up early,” Cisco mentions, toweling off his hair as Barry passes him in the hall.

He grunts, sidestepping his friend, slamming the door behind him.

“O-kaaay. G’morning to you too.”

For the first time in 4 years of college, he walks into the lecture hall early. Most of the seats are available, a difference in the odd seating he usually has to find when running late. He has his pick of the litter and chooses a seat right up front and waits.

The rest of the day goes as follows, early to all of his classes much to the shock of his professors who are well accustomed to his tardiness by now, mixed with a few puzzled stares from students who comment, your sitting in my seat’ not like they have assigned seating but their creatures of habit and they’ve been sitting in that same spot since the beginning of the semester, he can’t just waltz in and take it. He has a grilled cheese for lunch, studies at the library until it’s well after 5 before making his way home.

“Yo,” Cisco calls from the couch, attention based on the game he’s playing, Barry is tempted to join, at least for a little while to take his mind off other things but questions instead;

“Pizza for dinner tonight?”

“Nah,” he tilts his chin in the direction of the only room adjacent to the living area, “Caitlin made a pretty big deal of this new recipe she wants to try when she got home.”

“Even better,” Barry sighs, kicking his shoes off. He could use a home cooked meal. He walks over, pounding on her door three times, “Hi Cait.”

“Hi.” She greets him back through the door. It’s Wednesday, the only day she truly has off during her hectic schedule, and she doesn’t really have off - off, just no classes. She still works for most of the day but she comes home earlier and still manages to feed them. ‘You two would die of high cholesterol or blood pressure from all the fast-food if I didn’t’ she says one day, and it’s not a lie. It’s not like he or Cisco can’t cook - it’s just easier to order take out.  

“Will you let me know when the food is done?” He asks, starting on the stairs and Cisco raises a thumbs up but otherwise, keeps his attention on the television.

He shoulders his door open, tossing his book bag in the direction of his desk and stops short as he turns to his bed. “Iris? What’re you… what’re you still doing here?”

Not that he wants her to leave, she can stay as long as she wants, he just thought…

“I didn’t really feel up to much today, I hope this is okay.”

“You’re fine. It’s fine,” he shifts, stuffing his hands in his pockets. She’s laying in his bed, exactly where he left her tied up in the sheets, hair drawn back into a loose ponytail and - “is that my shirt?”

She peels the fabric between her index finger and thumb right over the Mega-Man emblem, peeking down at the blue shirt and sits up so that the covers fall away, “and my boxers?”

Given they’re ones he never wears as designed by the Christmas trees and lights decorating them but still … well, neither of them have ever looked as good on him as they do on her.

“Do you mind, I took a shower and didn’t have anything to change into, sorry.”  
“No,” he coughs, redirecting his attention elsewhere. “It’s fine, you're fine.” Trying his best to vanquish the image of her naked in his shower. He coughs again, moving over to his desk, stops and steps back - the night from the Halloween party becoming a visual display of the things that happened in that chair, he turns back to her in his bed and that’s not helping either.

He wipes his brow. “So … so, y-you, um. How- how are you?”

“I’m okay.”

“Good, that’s good.” he thinks, working his hand down to scratch at his jaw, not necessarily sure what to do with his hands or the energy bouncing around in his system, he walks to his closet, hitting his back to the doors and says the first thing that comes to mind, “are you hungry? Caitlin’s cooking tonight, she’s pretty good. It’s no hangover feast but still pretty worth sticking around for.”

“Yeah, she mentioned it when she got home.”

 _Got home_ as in she’s been walking around in the shadow of his footsteps all day - like she belonged here. Like it’s normal for her to invade his space, be a part of said space without his consent and make friends with his friends without his presence anywhere in the house, like it’s normal.

Almost like a girlfriend would.

He grits his teeth, thinning the line of his lips until his jaw ticks. “Mhmm.”

The springs in his bed creak as she moves, piling in under the layer of blankets and honestly, for the love of God would someone just tell him what to do.

“C’mere.”

She’s the devil in disguise, he swears and his feet are little traitors. The bed dips from his weight as he moves in close to her, digging himself under the sheets and blankets until he can feel the heat of her skin playing off his. He expects her to just lay beside him, to leave what little space they have left visible and apparent, as a reminder that there are still boundaries that they cannot cross. When she scoots over, closing the gap, wrapping her arm at his waist with her nail tracing at his skin just where his sweater has lifted around his midsection.

It silent for a while with the sound of the wind howling outside his bedroom window, and the distant noise from the television downstairs, yet he’s content for the first time today, basking in the cocoa smell of her hair and the pattern of her breathing he can feel against his neck.

So they won’t talk about it, but this is better than nothing.

**…**

_Thank you for your interest in The Scientific and Technological Advanced Research. We are pleased to inform you that we have evaluated your application and would you to join us for the 2016 summer internship program._

Barry reads the line out loud for what seems like the thousandth time. His heart racing at speeds he knows are uncommon, but who the hell cares - he’s going to be working under Dr. Harrison Wells for crying out loud.

“I’m proud of you, son.” His father’s voice breaks over the phone. “Me, too sweetie.” His mother follows, it’s a conference call with his dad being out of the state for work and his mom at home but he just had to tell them after he geeked out with Cisco (who also received his acceptance letter in the mail) and Caitlin.

He mumbles a thank you, flabbergasted and still in awe as he stares at the letter. The rest of it reads with his start date, and things he’ll need to bring with him on the first day along with who he's assigned to. _Assistant biophysics_ for Susan Rush.

He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet while he waits for Iris outside of the CCU Newsroom. He texts her about an hour ago with important news, like the curious mind she has she text back a row full of ‘?’ begging him to tell her. **You’ll see** was all he wrote back.

“I’m dying here, what’s the big news?”

He’s giddy, beyond giddy, pulling out the neatly tucked envelope from his coat pocket and thrusting it in her hands.

It only takes her a second, mouth tumbling over each word before her eyes light, drift up and she starts bouncing on her feet too and straight into his arms. “Oh my God, oh my God, Barry you did it. Oh my - I’m so happy for you,” she squeezes him tight, so tight that he almost can’t breathe but he’s pretty sure he’s had trouble breathing since the moment he ripped the letter open.

“We have to celebrate,” Iris says, pulling back just enough to gaze up at him from under her lashes. Her impossibly long lashes that graze her cheeks with each bat of her eyes, reminding him of butterfly wings and spring time.

Snap out of it.

“Yeah, yes, of course. Sure. Where - where do you wanna go?”

She snorts, tagging him on the shoulder. “It’s your celebration, where do you want to go?” He guess that makes sense, but he honestly can’t think of anywhere or anything he’d rather being doing at this moment. This, right now, enclosed in her arms is literally enough for him. He doesn’t need anything else.

They end up at the Big Belly Burger for celebratory milkshakes and mozzarella sticks. Cisco and Caitlin have joined, Caitlin stares wearily at the extra large orange creamsicle shake Cisco has ordered and comments on the amounts of saturated fat, he’s sucking through a straw warning him about clogged arteries.

“Would you live a little?”

“That’s the point I’m trying to make.” She argues.

Across the table, Barry and Iris take in the arguing duo, chuckling as Cisco dramatically rolls his eyes commenting that not everyone is meant to live off rabbit food and of course Caitlin takes offense, arguing the benefits of watching what you eat.

When Cisco splits a mozzarella stick, exposing the gooey cheese inside and hangs it over her head, Iris ducks her own into Barry’s shoulder to keep from outright laughing, looping her arm through his to hold him tighter in the process.

It’s not until they’re piling into her car that he notices that she hasn't let go.

**…**

“So you and … Iris?” Cisco says, padding into Barry’s room and perches himself against the door frame, one hand balled into a fist at his hip and the other wagging around a popsicle.

Barry peers over his shoulder, rolling his eyes briefly before turning back to the spreadsheet on his laptop.

“And don’t give me that _it’s nothing_ crap because dude we’ve totally catapulted into the  _it’s something_ territory.”

Barry snorts, typing in the formula of =IFERROR, mumbling, “it’s complicated.” Complicated enough that the last few days have almost seemed too easy. Sure, she’s being tightlipped about what happened but she’s not pushing him away either. He doesn’t know what to make of it, he’s just as confused as he was yesterday and the day before that, and the day before that. He has questions he’s bat shit scared to ask afraid that she’ll pull away but sometimes he can feel them almost spilling from his tongue and sometimes he’s almost positive that she’ll answer, if only he had the courage to say something.

“She’s been spending the night a lot lately, even for all the sneaking around you to used to do, it’s a lot.”

“Mhmmm.”

“And she leaves her toothbrush here.” Albeit, it’s downstairs in the bathroom that Caitlin uses, something about the boys being too messy but nevertheless.

“Well if she’s spending the night she has to brush her teeth.”

Cisco crosses his arms, slurping at the popsicle juice dripping in his hand. “She has Jane the Virgin recorded on our DVR.”

“You watch it with her.”  
Grumbling, Cisco rolls his eyes, forcing his way into Barry’s room to stand beside him at his desk. “One - it’s a good show that properly introduces the absurdity of telenovelas to American culture and _two_ \- I’m just wondering if I need to call our landlord to see if we should add her name to the lease.”

“It hasn’t been that long.”

He tilts his head to the side, calling him out on his lie.

“Has it?”

“It’s not like I don’t like having her here,” Cisco tucks a stray curl behind his ear, sitting his thigh on the desk. “She’s an awesome chick - or girl,” he corrects himself because God forbid Caitlin overhears, “whatever, I mean she’s a beast a guitar hero and Mario- Kart, she put her foot in that mac-n-cheese she made last week and she’s an outlet for Caitlin to talk about all her girly things with so you know A++ as far as I’m concerned. I guess I’m just curious…”

“And?” Barry reads the words right of his tongue.

“Worried, I’m worried about you.” Cisco sighs, shoulders visibly dropping. “You’re in here playing house with her and I guess … I’m just, I mean watching you go through the whole thing with Patty and Iris - I - I, we talked about this.”

“And I got in,” Barry shrugs. His internship starts at the beginning of April. He even has it circled in red marker on his calendar and everything. He’s keeping up in all his classes, he’s eating and shaving - heck, he even went for a run the other day. “So?”

“Don’t get defensive with me, I’m just trying to keep you from yourself.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” his tone drops to an accusatory one, his homework going for forgotten for the time being as he turns his chair.

“It means that you don't always think,” Cisco stresses the word, “that you let things slide and before you know it you’re buried in a ditch sulking that I have to come dig you out of.”

“Oh well, gee thanks.”

The shorter of the two groans, dropping his popsicle in the wastebaskets. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Sure as hell sounds like you did.”

“I don't, I just want you to be careful. Iris is a great girl and if she truly makes you happy then go for it by all means. But if she’s just stringing you along, and you know it, then Barry for your sake please, just let her go.”

Cisco leaves after that and Barry can’t concentrate on his work afterward. It’s not until he hears the heels of her boots does he break from his reverie. He looks up greeted by her smile as she unfurls the scarf from around her neck and starts unbuttoning her coat.

“Hey.”

“What are we doing?”

He bites his tongue, watching her features darken but his emotions have been boiling over for the past three hours or so and he can’t find it in himself to care at this points because all he can hear is Cisco voice say _stringing you along_ over and over again and really he shouldn’t have let him get under his skin because their friends. One minute, that is. The next he's not so sure.

“What?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about, Iris.” He stands out of his seat with enough force that it knocks against his desk. “I just need you to tell me what you want from me because honestly, I can’t keep the hell up.”

She huffs, anger replacing the light circling her irises just seconds ago, her hands pause on the buttons of her coat. “Keep up with what?”

“You, us? Are we even us because some days we are and some days we're not.” During his spiel, he hears her voice under her breathe _not this again_ and his eyes turn hard, slanting, “yes this again!”

She holds her hands out in surrender, stepping back. “You know what, I don’t know what’s gotten into you but call me whenever you figure it out.” She turns around, making to leave but for once his limbs cooperate under his demand and marches ahead of her, closing the door with a slam. “Stop running away from me.”

She sounds exasperated, “what are you talking about Barry!”

They're not yelling -yet- but he can feel them tipping on the verge of that and two hot heads aren’t going to get them anywhere, so he stops, inhales and tries again.

“The other day, when you came to me crying-”

“Barry.”

“No, listen. You came to me crying and wanting,” _me_ “things… and Iris, it's been weeks and I’ve been waiting on for you to say-”

“What?”

“Anything, Iris, anything at all but y-you don’t, you never do. And you pretend like nothing ever happens and expect me to do the same and-”

“And you just think I’m supposed to spill my heart out to you, tell you every little thing that’s going on up here.”

“ _Yes,”_ he urges, “we're supposed to be friends but I get this feeling that you keep me at arms lengths until it's convenient for you like I’m a cure for your boredom until you can move on to the next thing.”

“That’s not it at all Barry.”

“Then what is it?”

“You can’t keep making me the bad guy,” she stomps her foot, “it’s not fair that I have to be the one that keeps telling you no.”

“I’m not asking for that but you make it hard to keep the lines straight for whatever this is, we’re friends but we act like more but we’re not and you can’t say it’s not true,” he rushes ahead when she opens her mouth to argue, “because everyone sees it. I see it, Iris. I know you can too.”

“So what are you saying, that you don’t want to be friends anymore?” She sounds broken, and he stops because no that’s not what he means at all.

“Of course, I want to be friends with you - you are my friend Iris but I’m tired of acting like I don’t want more like I don’t love you.”

There it’s out. In the open. For the world to know.

He can’t lie and say he doesn’t feel relieved because honestly, it feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders.

His room falls silent, the ticking of his clock provides the only sound as he stands there waiting for her to say something, move, kick him in the balls, anything.

“Say something,” he presses. It’s not every day you spill your guts out like this and he’s kind of on edge, right on the brink of falling off some cliff seeded in the deep part of his mind.

“You can’t be,” she finally says after some time. Her voice floats behind her as she turns to sit on the edge of his bed, facing the window and the light snow falling outside the pane.

He moves, slowly, eventually finding a spot beside her. Grateful that at least she hasn’t dashed the other way.

“It’s not like I can help it.”

“I’m not good for you.”  
“Why do you say stuff like that?” Whenever he can get her to open up, she almost always slights herself in that regard.

“Because it’s the truth Barry, you’re going to go out and cure cancer or some other amazing thing and this-” she motions around the room, pointing to the campus that just lay behind this house by a few blocks, “is just your beginning, you're going to find someone that deserves you. Who’s just as smart as you and can change the world like you-”

And he just wants her to stop talking so he cups her face, turning her to him. He sees the glassiness of her eyes, how the tears brim her sockets, dangerously close to spilling over. “You are all those things.” He presses his forehead to hers. “You're worth it Iris.” He’ll tell her every day if he has to. He’ll show her. He’ll write, sing it, sign it whatever.

“But what if-?”

He shushes her with a shake of his head and says it again. “I love you, Iris.” He can’t unsay it, he won’t and he doubts he ever will.

**…**

She’s scared shitless and about two seconds from running away when his door opens.

“Iris?”

“Scott, um,” she pushes back a bang, steeling herself under his gaze and ask, “can I come in?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S3 is looking so good, us WA(ers) are so #blessed, it's crazy.  
> Thank you for reading!


	8. VII.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> see,  
> what  
> had  
> happened  
> was ... ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> also, fyi, this is unedited. enjoy.

Scott's apartment is set up as she remembered it last; white walls stretched over an open floor plan, his favorite movie posters framed over his dark furniture but minimal otherwise, yet modern. What she appreciated, was the veranda and its view of downtown from the 15th floor. Days, evenings that morphed into dawn, Iris spent seasons sitting out there sometimes working to finish a deadline, or talking to her family and the days she missed them most and on one occasion under the stars; in Scott’s arms. This highrise was her home away from home.

Now, a rented house across town, crammed between two other college houses filled with people have become her safe space.

Caitlin, Cisco, but most importantly Barry: the boy who believed she deserved the entire world and was willing to drop it at her feet even if he had to remove himself from the equation and watch from the sidelines.

 

//

 

“I love you, Iris.”

 _I love you. I love you. I love you_. A thousand suns desperately burn inside her, fighting to come out and say it back. Barry’s eyes flicker at her hesitation, the chink spotted in her armor, caught between wanting and failing.

The corner of his lip, twitches, cocking into a tiny but reserved smile.

“Don't say it back.” _If you don’t mean it_ , “if you’re not ready.”

It’s her out, graciously given, to save them both from a doomed outcome - a let down - and a broken heart. He reassures her, arms wrapped securely around her shoulders, _rocking, rocking_ , holding her even though he could lose her. For all he knew, after tonight, they’d never see each other again - their last kiss, made out of desperation without a chance to redo and the last night spent together, unrequited. All the nights spent together tangled in his sheets, in each other’s limbs, sweating, panting, and coming undone together - done. The aftermath, in his care as he worked her through and back down time and time again always sealing their night (whether she stayed or went) with a kiss to her jaw, right at the pulse as if to remind her - he did this, it was his body, his kindness, his attention that ruined her - but also pleaded for her to come back.

His breath tickles her hairline as he sighs, breathing her in like this is the last time he’ll get the chance, and rest there, rocking, rocking, until she feels the palm of his hand cup and lifts her chin. She thinks this is it - he’s changed his mind. He doesn’t mean what he said especially if she can't say it back. And _God_ , she wishes he would. He’d understand, what she lacks in words she makes up in other ways but he keeps distance, jaded green just visible under his lashes. 

“Be happy, Iris. In whatever way that is for you.”

 

//

 

The door clicks shut behind her. Behind her, Scott rests against the frame, waiting on the explanation of her presence.

When no words come, he takes the initiative.

“This is a surprise.” She hears him take a step to the right, the fridge popping open, shuts and Scott clears his throat. “Want anything to drink, or are you hungry?”

Iris shakes his head, stuffing her hands in her jacket pockets. “No thanks. I won't be here long.”

“Oh?”

The short elevator ride should've been her shining moment of glory. Her tongue betraying her, twisting and tying over the words lumped inside her chest. _It was nice seeing you, Iris_ Scott waved as the doors slide close, knocking her from a stupor. Memories snapping back to the forefront, pushing unease down her spine until she’s choking back tears. 

Time and anger brought her here. Scott had been the only person she loved until now. And now that she had a real chance with a great guy in a love she’s witnessed in the likes of her parents, she couldn't say it back. 

And she needed to say it. 

Eyes trained on the window, she asked. “Why did you trick me into believing you loved me?”

The silence follows on the back of her question, stretching out for a period of time and she thinks, maybe he didn’t hear, but then Scott clears his throat and speaks up, “I did.” He says slowly, moving to stand beside her leaving just enough space between the two. “As immature and insecure as I was then, I did, just not the way you deserved.” 

Twisting the unopened bottle, Scott stressed over past mistakes.  but just something to do to release his unease.

“There’s no excuse for what I did, and I’m sorry.”

 

//

  
Iris has to go. There’s someone she needs to see, a weight she needs to be lifted off her chest; _I’ll be back_ she promises whether Barry believes her or not. Resolution from Scott is the concluding chapter in order to start new. _I’m coming back._

//

She takes a chance, turning to face Scott. For the first time since their breakup, she sees him. All of him. He looks older since he started grad school, matured. Gone is the high top, traded in for a fade and manicured goatee that makes him wiser in all the years she’s known him. He’s attractive, he’ll always be attractive but she can’t help but wish she was laying in bed, staring into green eyes instead. If she were, she’d continue her count of Barry’s beautiful body of freckles using the pad of her fingers but mostly her lips, teasing him until he laughed or she spurred his arousal.

“I should've been the one to come to you, but then again, you’ve always been a bigger person. I apologize for that as well.”

 

//

After all this time, she has the closing to this chapter of her life. Proverbial weight, lifted,  there’s no whoosh or spectacular, sparkly feeling included - _just_ her and her breathing and a wild beating heart after a lifetime of being locked away like coming alive once again. She felt alive again.

For Barry.    

Moments with him spent in broad daylight, on campus in the union, wondering the halls between classes hand in hand. Nights lounging in his living room, cuddled together on his couch whispering as the tv watched them, sharing stories and hopes of their future individually and together as friends.

And now … together, _together_ because she’s in love. Real actual, raising a family, forever type of love. The kind her parents, and grandparents inspired her to have. It nearly knocks her off her feet.

“Whoa.”

Scott blinks, rubbing his free hand over his chin, looking at her and the unbridled joy lifting a smile to her face, spreading even though she fought it biting her bottom lip, but her sudden epiphany has her racing for the door, nearly out when Scott calls;

“Whoever he is, I'm glad he makes you happy.”

She spares one last look, ducks her head, and steps into the hallway. Finally, ready to leave the past behind this door and run _as fast as she can_ toward her future.

* * *

Caitlin answers the door,  Iris misses her initial greeting, pounding up the stairs two at a time before bursting into Barry’s room. “Iris-” surprised, his reflexes kick in the second Iris jumps into his arms, and tells him the three words she should've said earlier.

//

Barry kisses her neck, then her ear, mumbling  _ I love you. I love you too. _ His arms tighten around her, somehow managing to pull them even closer, his chest solid and warm against her.   
  
“I love you.” He says.    
  
She’s trying not to cry, and hold it together but she's never felt this way before a d he’s perfect and she can't believe she almost stood in her own way. A few tears do escape at the thought of losing out on this. 

“Hey, hey. I'm here.” He wiped her cheeks, leaning forward, kissing her neck and shoulder. 

Iris believes him and trust herself - she's exactly where and with who she's supposed to be with. The thought secures itself ever more the moment he slides home, and she cries out, back arching as his teeth sink around her nipple and she explodes - whoever hears outside the four walls of his room be damned.  

There's no longer a need to be quiet, or hide what has been painfully obvious since beginning. He isn't a secret to protect and keep under wraps, no, Barry is hers to claim for everyone to see. 

He groans, grabbing her hips and pulling tight against her, pushing deeper in the most wonderful, intense pleasure Iris has ever felt as he throbs, so very hard and wide. The moment she feels his hands ease their grip on her hips, she rocks forward, chasing, igniting a long guttural moan pressed beautifully against her collar, so she does it again, and again. Handz remaining loose, so she could take whatever she needed from him, rocking back and forth, delighting in the delicious feel of him. 

His hands roamed up, and around her hips and back until she sat cradled in his lap, holding her but still giving her all the control she needed as the pleasure kept building in on itself, high and hotter until his length become drenched with a explosion she felt inside her very bones.    
  
“So good,” he gasped, beginning to swell. “So good.”   
  
His arms tightened as the rest of his body stiffened and it was all Iris could do to hold on, but still encourage him by rocking her hips forward, keeping just the tip of him  inside. Barry breathed a sigh of relief, but when she threw her body back, hard, he shot deep inside, his rough hands gripping her waist almost painfully as her grew harder than she's ever felt him.   
  
“Oh my - Iris!” he growled, pummeling into her again and again and again.   
  
The scream ripped from her throat without warning just as he grunted, long and loud, arms tightening, almost squeezing the air straight from her lungs, as his hips thrust up, cramming her full.    
  
//

Consciousness reduced to nothing but endorphins after one great climax after the other, Iris cuddled into Barry's arms, knowing, now more than ever that he is her happily ever after.

“I’m so in love with you, Barry Allen.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end


End file.
